Loyalty's Destiny
by brynerose
Summary: Death does not always mean the end...but that doesn't make it easier. Sequel to 'The Meaning of Loyalty'-must read first! Many thanks to SpangleyPony for suggesting that I write this! Rated for later battle scenes and possible minor language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: By request, I have returned with a continuation of 'The Meaning of Loyalty'! It took me a while to figure out how to go about this, and I will admit it feels like a bit of a stretch even in magic (I can only pretend to have mastery over life and death =P). But I like to think that if destiny has any say, special rules apply in Merlin's case ^-^ Enjoy!**

* * *

Despite the open windows of the hall Arthur walked, his surroundings felt particularly airless. He knew he had been avoiding this path since the funeral. Three weeks. In three _weeks_ no one else had had the heart to face what he was about to…not even Gaius. It was a wonder the old court physician could still function, living adjacent to the room nobody wanted to disturb. But it was time, and someone had to.

Arthur had encountered few reasons to enter the back room of the infirmary, even for the several years during which his former manservant had occupied it. Royalty simply didn't visit their servants' quarters. He was a little apprehensive as to what he would find. What did Merlin hold dear in this home away from home (if he could call it that after so long)?

Gaius was absent from the cluttered chambers; probably keeping himself busy with rounds. An invisible weight settled onto Arthur's shoulders as he crossed the space to the rickety door at the far end. The very rooms seemed to feel the emptiness left by their treasured friend. And Merlin _had _been treasured, Arthur realized, by everyone he had touched.

The little room was sparse but messy, which wasn't unexpected. Arthur didn't exactly give his personal servants much spare time, and Merlin in particular carried out duties for Gaius as well as his king. He had apparently done laundry shortly before the attack on Camelot, as most of his clothes were hastily folded into the small cupboard. His winter overcoat and old traveling pack occupied the corner on the other side of the door. The bed was unmade, bedclothes left carelessly, not knowing their owner would not return. A horrible knot formed in Arthur's throat the more he saw of his manservant's private world.

Not willing to let these feelings get the better of him, Arthur snatched the pack from its hook. It had carried all of Merlin's possessions here to Camelot, and he didn't seem to have collected much since. The well-worn clothes crammed easily into the bag. A few letters from his mother, as well as one he had obviously intended to send, lay on the bed table. They went in a little more gently. Hunith would want what memories were left of her son.

A flutter, not quite a chill, swept across Arthur's shoulders as he worked. The feeling left him unsettled. As if what he was doing was somehow unwelcome. No, maybe not…it didn't feel malevolent, but neither was it entirely comforting. More like just another reminder of the loss he had suffered. Would he never be able to get the image of Merlin dying, burning out of his mind?

_Get a hold of yourself!_

He sank to the floor, his knees folding toward his chest with his back to the simple bedframe. This was a mistake. He thought he could handle this task, but it rang with a greater note of finality than the moment he lit his friend's pyre. Back then, in the midst of his grief, he at least felt like he was somehow freeing Merlin. The young man would no longer have to suffer or worry. Arthur remembered the trick of the flames, how he could imagine a majestic dragon within them. The thought was strangely peaceful. He pictured his family's emblem coming to life, wrapping warm wings around his own stony shoulders. Of course, real dragons were supposed to be evil magical creatures; odd that he sought comfort in the image now.

He braced his hands on the wood floor to shift into a more relaxed position. To his surprise, his fingers discovered a gap under the bed, made by a loose board on one side. So, Merlin had a hiding space…

Whatever Arthur might have expected to find, he certainly wasn't prepared for what was actually there. A decorated walking staff barely fit in the cubby hole. It was familiar—years ago, when the two of them had rescued that mysterious father and daughter. Multiple people had eventually told him they had been sorcerers bent on killing him. Why would Merlin steal this?

Next to the staff was an old leather-bound book. Hidden with a magical object, Arthur's stomach plummeted. He had let adrenaline push away suspicions of Merlin's capabilities down in the dungeon, even though his knights had brought the subject up. No way had Merlin _really_ practiced magic. He knew the laws of Camelot! The servant was barely capable of walking without tripping over his own feet, let alone commanding powerful, evil forces!

And yet, as Arthur ran his fingers across the tome's cover, the not-chill returned more firmly at his back. Almost like a ghostly push. He opened the book on the disheveled bed. The unfamiliar verses immediately put him on guard. This was the old tongue, words few dared to speak, with good reason. And it had been in _Merlin's _possession?!

He flipped through the pages. Some spells were accompanied by illustrations of plants or objects. Arthur recognized the bracelet Morgana had given him for his quest for the Fisherking's trident. Others had readable explanations of how to manipulate elements such as fire and wind (both of which had behaved mysteriously with Merlin present, if memory served him well). There were passages about healing, about changing one's appearance, about tricking other people's thoughts. An entire section was devoted to dragons, with even more bizarre incantations. The more Arthur saw, the more he feared his heart would give out from shock. This didn't make sense! He wouldn't let himself think it possible. Merlin _couldn't_ be this hidden persona under Arthur's nose for so many years. The lowly servant had been closer than just about anyone was permitted to be with the prince-turned-king. Arthur wouldn't let himself consider the outcomes that could have happened.

A door creaked open and shut, though he didn't register its meaning. He sat frozen on the floor until Gaius appeared right next to him.

"Sire! What brings you—oh my." The physician's expression melded from surprise to anxiety as he realized what the king was holding. Arthur met his gaze with a tortured look of his own.

"Gaius…please…tell me this is somehow a mistake…M-Merlin…"

Gaius let out a heavy sigh, and took a seat on the unkempt bed. "Sire, there is so much Merlin intended to tell you. He just wasn't sure _how_…"

"He _knew_, he deliberately ignored the laws of Camelot, and dared to serve me all this time while he did it! All the times I defended him, convinced my father he had nothing to do with suspected magical activity…but I was protecting a liar. How _could _he…?" Arthur's knuckles were turning white, he gripped the edges of the book so hard.

"Arthur, hear me out. He was nothing like the previous sorcerers you and your father have encountered," Gaius practically begged. The subject was tearing him apart just as much as it tore at Arthur. "The truth was always there for anyone who looked for it. Regardless of his secrets, you _did_ know the real Merlin."

"Did I?!"

"Did you not have a servant who sacrificed himself—without magic, mind you—in order to prove your goblet had been poisoned? Who followed you into battles and crises regardless of his own safety just to try to ensure yours? Who listened to you and told you what you needed to hear—not always what you _wanted_ to hear—whether or not it would benefit his own position? Who got up every day for _year after year_ just to clean and mend and polish for the man he truly believed would be a great king? Sire, even if he _never _revealed his nature to you, he did everything he could to show that you had at least one unshakeable ally in this miserable world. Any other man would be lofted as a champion!"

The old man huffed for breath in lieu of this lecture. Arthur was left stunned, suddenly back to being a child who complained his father was being unfair. No one had chastised him so in years! And though he wanted to just let his righteous anger carry him past what Gaius said, he could not block out the memories that surfaced.

Barely a few weeks into his service, Merlin had stumbled upon a plot to poison Arthur. He staked everything, in front of a room full of nobles and their entourages, to bring the truth to light. Arthur himself had outright defied his father in the quest to save Merlin from that same poison. He had been so quick then to believe his servant had the purest intentions, simply by that selfless act…

The hapless young man hated anything to do with violence, but followed Arthur nonetheless on quests, scouting trips, hunts, and into battles. He stood by Arthur as the king himself nearly ruined all relations with Queen Annis. Never wavered in the struggle to repair those relations. He took up a sword despite obvious fear when Arthur had agreed to help the villagers in Ealdor. In fact, Merlin _had_ very nearly faced his own death when magic saved the battle that day. Arthur had demanded who did it; Merlin's childhood friend Will had stepped up to take the blame, dying already from personally saving the prince.

Apparently, Arthur's storm of emotions showed on his face, because Gaius' expression softened considerably. Arthur tried to find words for what he felt. "I…I…so he really _did_ have magic?"

"He did his best to serve you without using it—in fact, I insisted on it, for his own safety. But there have been moments of…well, desperation, when something more was needed. Sometimes he was the only one who could give us a chance. However, he only ever thought of the well-being of those he cared about. Perhaps too much, at times," the wearied physician sighed.

"He _was_ a sorcerer, then…"

"There is a rare distinction that few ordinary people these days understand. Your father's conviction blurred out a few crucial details. Anyone willing to study enough and practice can _learn_ magic, to an extent. These we know as sorcerers," Gaius explained tentatively. "But every so often, fate gifts the world with a person who is _born_ with magic. A magical creature in and of themselves. Such a person needs no teaching, or even necessarily words to touch the forces of the world. They already know.

"The druids foretold of a warlock more powerful than any before or to come, who would accompany the once and future king into a golden age of the kingdoms. Through these two men, Camelot would give birth to the united land of Albion."

A spike of incredulity managed to work past Arthur's frozen state. "And you think…_Merlin_ was this warlock?"

"He could move objects with his mind before he could talk."

Arthur pondered this. Gaius had once consorted with sorcerers, though he renounced those ways during the Great Purge and had since been nothing but loyal to the Pendragon family. He was devoted to science and learning, often providing insight into mysterious circumstances. Arthur had yet to believe in a reason to doubt the old counselor.

Gaius apparently took his silence as allowance to continue. "Those who still follow the Old Religion knew him as Emrys, a being of incredible power, but also one of compassion and wisdom. A man as connected to the people as he was, technically, beyond them. Ultimately, however, he would still be only human. I daresay we can't blame Merlin for not being perfect, under such circumstances. He tried to do what he thought was best for everyone. You certainly knew that side of him."

Arthur's hands slipped from the book to the floorboards on either side of him. This was too much to take in at once. The void Merlin left behind was difficult enough to deal with. How could Arthur also absorb such a drastic overhaul of the man he thought he knew? Yes, some base level that wouldn't be silenced told him Gaius could be right. Merlin had passed up too many chances to bring down the kingdom if he had indeed been what a sorcerer 'should' be, according to Uther's belief. Or had the little sneak just not deemed the time right? Did Merlin possess the wiles to nurse a plan for so long? Arthur couldn't bring himself to embrace change just because he hoped it to be true.

"Don't get me wrong, Gaius…I just…I need time to think about this," he concluded, almost groaning. The whole ordeal exhausted him more than he wanted to admit. Without finishing the task he had started, Arthur left the vacuous chambers.

* * *

The dark could be strangely comforting, Arthur realized that night. While it obscured both untold dangers and potential saviors from one's sight, it also allowed a certain gift of isolation from the rest of the world. He couldn't see it—and it couldn't see him either. When in such a state of mind as he was presently, he welcomed this facet of darkness. He needed some time _alone_.

Not that he was completely separate from his surroundings. Only inches away, Gwen's easy breathing eased his tension as well. He often wondered how far he would have gotten if she hadn't returned. Especially after losing Merlin, they were each other's unmoving support. She was certainly stronger than most nobles Arthur had known in his life. He needed her as much as he needed the space to think for himself.

Most of the immediate impact of the day's revelations had worn off by now. His head wasn't swimming with anger, hurt, or betrayal. He had even given memory lane a go, scrutinizing his shared past with Merlin for signs of magic and that 'true loyalty' Gaius spoke of. The manservant had always shown more interest when magic was suspected. He was quite keen on the subject, if a little jumpy. But he made it clear to Arthur, Uther, and the court that he was the last person capable of subversive activity. Always ended up the fool, whether intended or not. And he usually made things worse with his efforts before the situation improved.

But that's what was endearing about Merlin. He cared, possibly more than anyone should. His duty to friends and kingdom came before everything else. He always looked for the best in people, stood up against the worst, and had this uncanny ability to lift drowning spirits. Something about his character simply was _good_. Could magic possibly be an asset in the hands of someone so purehearted?

At long last, Arthur managed to drift off to sleep. He found himself on a familiar landscape in his dreams—the training grounds. Even in imagination, he felt better having the chance to beat his frustration out on a dummy, or one-on-one combat. His most trusted knights surrounded him, awaiting the first round of exercises. Arthur was just about to give the orders, too, before a very unfamiliar visitor arrived.

He caught onto its approach by sound rather than sight. Wind, whistling along thin-stretched leather. Deep, rhythmic snorts in time with the even lower thrum of wingbeats. But when every indication told Arthur the creature should appear overhead…

It didn't.

Or at least, what he expected wasn't what appeared. No huge, fire-spitting lizard soared over the trees. Yet _something_ flew above them. The knights scattered into defensive positions, trying to track a shimmering reddish form as it circled. Only, one by one on the creature's next pass, they _disappeared._ Just faded out of existence. Arthur was alone, but not in the comforting way.

"Who are you?" demanded the king. "What do you want?" The next moment he was crouching for cover as the unidentifiable attacker dove low. It didn't touch him, however. It made a tight circle around him once, and peeled off again. As far as he could tell, he hadn't vanished like the others. Still no pain or impact came. When Arthur ventured to look, the sight that met him felt like a physical blow, even within the dream.

The wounds were gone, the clothes undamaged. He might have just walked up to continue his duties as if nothing had happened, dark-haired and grinning cheekily. Well, Arthur could imagine the grin, anyway. This apparition of Merlin was unnervingly serious. He fixed Arthur with a stare that was almost desperate.

"_Arthur…"_

Arthur fought not to lose his thin composure. He knew he was being ridiculous; this was his dream, and he could see whatever he wanted to. Nonetheless, Merlin's appearance in a setting other than the replay of his death (a common feature in Arthur's dreams since the funeral) sent Arthur's heart upward like a firework. He took off toward his manservant with every intention of hugging the man. Social status be damned!

Except he didn't get any closer to Merlin. Arthur pumped his legs faster, but the space between them just elongated. Merlin seemed to recognize this as well. He stretched a begging hand out to Arthur.

"_I had to warn you, Arthur…been trying to reach you…"_

"I'm coming!" he shouted, fighting down growing panic. "Just hang in there—I can still get to you, I promise! I'll find a way!"

"_There's not much time. For both our sakes…for everyone's…you have to break—"_

Pain suddenly contorted his dead friend's face. Before Arthur's eyes, the shadows of every injury he had ever known Merlin to have received rose from beneath the pale skin. Arthur redoubled his efforts in unbridled fear. Merlin's body writhed from the echoes of past hurt. Deep red blossomed in a dozen places on his clothes. Darkness suddenly shot from the old wounds, snaking out and consuming what was left of him. His pleading eyes found Arthur one more time. He almost looked…defeated.

"_Please…"_

Arthur's torso jerked vertical so quickly it caused a muscle in his back to spasm in protest. He hissed with the shock. For a moment…he could have sworn he felt Merlin's pain like his own.

Gwen shifted beside him, at ease and without waking. Arthur rested a hand on her arm in attempt to calm himself. It was nothing but a dream. The grief, the renewed trauma of going through his servant's things and remembering everything they'd done together—_that_ must have been the cause. Gaius had talked before about one's thoughts following them into sleep, especially if the thoughts were worrisome. Nothing to get carried away about.

And yet, the apparition's bid for help would not entirely leave his mind. He couldn't forget the odd feelings he'd had in Gaius' chambers the past day. Dream-Merlin had said he was trying to reach him. Arthur had faced tricks and sorcery too many times to outright dismiss anything unusual. Merlin _was_ supposed to be more powerful than anyone, after all. Maybe it wasn't so much of a coincidence…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the wait; I honestly have no excuse, as the chapter was sitting, finished, in my doc manager. I won't bother trying to voice the excuses going through my head. Here it is to read now!**

* * *

"Gwaine and Percival, you're next."

Arthur watched the two knights square up for sparring. He already felt much lighter having taken a rousing victory against Leon; yes, sometimes the best remedy was to beat away the emotions with a sword. The other knights showed similar results. Normalcy. Routine. Daily life as they knew it. And working out to the point of exhaustion helped, too. Sooner or later they simply had to move on.

This particular match was always interesting, as Gwaine possessed surprising power in addition to agility. He could hold his own against his quite larger brother-in-arms. Even Arthur had to admit Percival was a challenging partner. He watched the two of them trade blows and advantages. For once, Gwaine put all of his effort into the task instead of joking around. Next to Arthur and Gwen, Gwaine had probably taken Merlin's death the hardest. The two had been close friends. He barely spoke to anyone for days after the funeral.

Sir Percival gained the final upper hand this time, however. He managed to hook his blade into the end of Gwaine's chainmail sleeve, hampering his opponent's sword arm. A sweep of the foot, and Gwaine was flat on his back. Some of the other knights laughed good-naturedly. Percival helped him back up.

"Watch your follow through after a broad stroke," Arthur commented to the shorter man. "If you let the momentum carry you too far, you leave the outside of your arm open. And Percival, that's an unconventional tactic that could be of use in single-weapon combat, but take care your opponent doesn't pull a dagger when you get that close. Very good, both of you."

The knights nodded. Arthur considered for a moment who to pick next when he heard a sound that put a chill down his back.

The thrum of wings in the open space of the field, just like in his dream.

He caught the blurry red flash in his peripheral vision as the creature swung into view. So unprepared was he for this sudden déjà vu that he gave a yelp and tumbled backward, sword in front of him. All the men within ten feet rushed to see what the matter was.

"Sire!" gruff voices chorused around him.

"I'm alright—don't attack the—" Then he realized the dream-apparition was gone, if indeed it had ever been there in the first place. Arthur wildly scanned the air above them. It hadn't been big—he should still be able to hear it, if not see it, for how wide the training grounds stood. Burning embarrassment started to creep up in place of the chill. "Did any of you see that?"

"Well, we saw you leap back like a woman might at a mouse…" Gwaine offered, though his kidding manner was rather muted with concern.

Arthur knew his face was going red. This was no way for a king to act. Elyan extended a hand to pull him to his feet, which he took. A couple others glanced at the sky as the king had. The whole situation was turning awkward, fast. Finally, Leon spoke up.

"You've been running yourself hard these past days, Sire. I can take over the rest of the session. Go rest," pressed the senior knight. He said it not out of any kind of authority, but as a loyal friend. Arthur sighed, and nodded.

He retreated to the armory alone, refusing the help of a servant on gut principle. Goodness knew he was perfectly able to remove the armor himself. Back in his daily court clothes, he decided to return to his chambers, though _rest_ was probably out of his reach for the moment. His heart wouldn't let itself be calmed after such a startling episode.

Perhaps he should ask Gaius for a tonic of dreamless sleep. He felt stretched to the limits, like a drumhead retightened again and again. How much more of this grief could he take before he split into ragged pieces? Before he became useless to the kingdom that depended on him? A brief vein of ire coursed through his chest—it wasn't fair! What gave Merlin the right to cause everyone this pain, when he didn't have to stick around to face it?

But his late servant's torture replayed in Arthur's mind, and he knew he couldn't stay angry. He still felt the ragged last breaths as he had tried to make Merlin comfortable, knowing there was nothing he could really do. The young man's terror and pain in Arthur's dream, again as he was kept helpless. If Gaius' word was to be believed, _no one_ had taken more punishment than Merlin, who had silently shielded them all from destruction over and over…and _over_. And Arthur had never been so robbed of power in his life. He kicked the nearest wall in frustration. Maybe a physical stubbed toe could take the edge off this emotional torment, maybe not. He really couldn't care less at the moment.

A light wind brought him out of his thoughts, swirling through the open windows. No hint of strange flying creatures. That conclusion didn't keep him from tensing at the gentle noise, however. He resumed the trek to his chambers at a quick pace. He nearly made it, too.

It started with a flash of red. Arthur jumped as he swore he saw the mirage-like form pass the windows. Unfortunately, it proved to be the least of his worries. From around the corner at the far end of the hall, a dripping, reeking, disfigured visitor stalked toward him. He recognized its appearance from years earlier…but it _couldn't _be here now…he had killed it! Hadn't he? And anyway, how would a noxious mud monster get all the way up from the catacombs without being noticed?!

The toothy maw roared, clearly fixed its senses on Arthur, and charged. Arthur dove into his chambers, slamming and locking the door behind him. This wasn't possible. Something had to be making him hallucinate. Or he was just going mad. He prayed that wasn't the case. _Please_, don't let him be going mad…

Outside, the hallway was quiet once more. Arthur heard no snuffling or other indication a hulking terror waited outside. After waiting several minutes to confirm his hearing and return his heart rate to normal (the latter was only somewhat successful), he ventured to peek outside.

The sunlit corridor was empty. Completely empty. Not even a splotch of mud left behind.

"Arthur?"

_Thunk._

"Ouch!"

Still way too tense, Arthur managed to knock the door into his own head, which cleverly got pinched between the heavy wood and the stone doorframe. "Ahwww! Really? Did you have to sneak up like tha—oh, Guinevere." His face burned again with more than just pain.

The queen stood in the doorway to the dressing chamber. Her expression floated between concern and bemusement. "Um, Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I—well, uh—there was—you see—um—nothing?"

"You never were a good liar, at least when you were caught in the act." Smiling, she led him to the nearest chair, where she sat him down to see what he'd managed to do to himself. "Oo, you broke the skin a bit with the door."

"Well, that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't taken me by surprise," Arthur grumped. Gwen dabbed at it with a damp handkerchief, then kissed the tender spot near his right ear. Of course he couldn't keep up the sour mood when she coddled him like that. Suddenly all the adrenaline dropped out of him in one load; perhaps he could use a nap after all.

"Now, what's this really about? I know you still think of Merlin a lot. We all do."

Arthur huffed a sigh. "I just haven't slept well…keep expecting to see…well I thought…" He pinned Gwen's hand where it hovered at his cheek. She pulled up a chair for herself with her free hand. "It's hard to explain…"

"He was the closest friend you had, there's no shame in missing him. But that doesn't account for you peeking around the door like a curious maidservant."

"It sounds barking, Gwen, and I'm fine now—"

"You are not! When you turned around one would have thought something was coming after you!" Gwen cut over him. She looked wholly concerned now. He knew she wouldn't let the matter go. The longer Arthur sat, sheepish and miserable, the tighter she clung to his hand. Her patience was another incredible feature. "Please, Arthur. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, you know that."

"Well…" croaked Arthur. Perhaps telling someone would help. He swallowed hard. "I thought I did see something…"

"What? Or who?"

"Remember that water plague years ago? Turned out it was a magical creature sent by an evil sorceress?"

Gwen nodded, a little confused.

"It came back. Charged at me in the hall."

"Arthur, exactly how much sleep _have_ you gotten lately?"

"I swear, Gwen, it was there! It got close enough that I could smell its breath! I ducked in here, and after a few minutes…it was just gone. Not even the mud footprints left."

"Long-dead creatures don't just appear and disappear in guarded hallways, Arthur—"

Arthur smacked his fists against his knees. "Except it did! And that wasn't the first thing I saw, either—I saw this shimmery flying creature, twice today! It was in my dream last night, and then there it was, gliding over the training grounds—"

"The other knights saw it too, then?"

"Well, no, but it was there! I could hear it, feel it. Merlin was also in my dream, it looked like he needed help—"

"_Arthur_, you're speaking nonsense! We all deal with death in different ways, I know, but this—"

"It's magic, I bet you anything!" Now that he was talking, Arthur had to make her understand. "It's the only possibility left. Gaius told me—well—I tried to sort through Merlin's things yesterday, and there was this book…he was studying magic, Gaius confirmed it."

Gwen's hands flew to her mouth, horrified. This pause in their exchange gave Arthur the chance to calm down a little.

"I…I need your honest thoughts, Gwen. Have you ever…wondered if magic wasn't all bad? That maybe, in the right hands, it could be used for good?" His mouth was annoyingly dry. He registered that the water goblets were at the other end of the table, but he didn't have enough motivation to go get it. "Gaius was of the opinion that Merlin wasn't just a magic user, he _was_ magic. Some powerful warlock who was supposed to help bring peace to all the kingdoms. I need to know what you think."

Gwen's face was torn between several emotions. "I-I-I—your father decreed it was—"

"I don't mean based on what the laws say. That doesn't matter right now. I want an objective view of…of whether or not my father was right in the first place."

"Well, we've seen many instances over the years in which magic was used for evil," Gwen started slowly. "We've both lost parents because of it…friends, trust, hope…but…" She swallowed hard. "My father took me and Elyan once to see a troupe of performers from a distant kingdom. Once of them knew magic. He made…the most wondrous images out of everything. Flower petals, fire embers, even someone's spilled wine. It was beautiful…I was only five, mind you."

"When you don't see every day, it can easily be fascinating," Arthur agreed. "Troupes have come here to Camelot many a time. Though the last time we had one, my father ended up dying for me…"

"But in many of the other kingdoms, magic is widely accepted for its uses in medicine, if nothing else. Isn't that what Gaius and some of his fellow physicians used to practice?"

Again Arthur nodded. "A strong advantage, to be sure. I just can't decide…are the good uses worth risking the bad ones?" This question hung in the air for a minute or two.

"I guess…that depends on how much value we place on the good," mused Gwen, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Stealing has its punishments, but that hasn't completely stopped people from trying it. And we haven't outlawed trade of all kinds just to try to stop thieves."

"Gaius said Merlin's magic saved us at times. I can think of moments—maybe an enemy lost his weapon, or something distracted them—that seemed like happy coincidence. Or when your father recovered from that plague."

"Or when you survived the questing beast's bite," Gwen pointed out. "It was supposed to be without cure."

Arthur's brain really clicked into gear. "Or when I went to find the morteus flower to save Merlin. There was this presence, when I thought I was stranded in the cave. It showed me the way out. I even thought I heard someone urging me to save myself…figured it was my own selfishness back then…"

A smile spread on Gwen's face. "But it was Merlin, wasn't it? He talked in his sleep a lot during the fever. Strange words I'd never heard before."

"He always had a way of sounding like my conscience. Or at least the voice of reason," Arthur chuckled. He couldn't help it. Merlin _did_ have that uncanny ability to know when they were bound to run into trouble. Not to mention sometimes having a hand in getting them out of it.

"But with all that power, why wouldn't Merlin have tried to push for change?"

"Oh, he stated his opinions, sure. I thought it had more to do with the offenders as people than as wielders of magic. He never pressed the matter farther than was appropriate, though, or if I told him to stop." Arthur thought fondly of the banter he and Merlin used to exchange. "You know, the first time we met, I threatened to take him out with one blow. He said he could take me apart with less. I never thought more of it."

"We all have secrets, I guess."

Arthur fixed Gwen with a nervous look. "Do you believe it? That all this could be true about Merlin?"

"I think it's possible. I don't have any proof for myself, of course. But I always had a sense that there was something more to him than he let anyone see." Gwen bit her lip. "In the end I guess we're all just waiting for someone who will understand who we are."

"And if Merlin did have magic, do you think he could really be trying to tell us something now?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly the best person to ask about magic."

"But…you don't think I'm going mad, or anything?"

"Arthur, this is hardly the strangest thing you've ever done, with or without the influence of magic." They stared at each other for a minute as this sunk in for Arthur. He was loathe to admit it, but she was right. That didn't entirely reassure him, however, as Gwen seemed to pick up. "If it bothers you so much, go see Gaius. He'd be mostly likely to know the answers out of everyone in this castle. And if it's not magic, maybe he can help with the dreams at least. He used to for Morgana."

A quite different lump rose in Arthur's chest. "For all the good it did her…"

"Her unwillingness to forgive is her fault, not the fault of her abilities or Gaius'," Gwen insisted, though the memory clearly bothered her as well. "You're not like her, Arthur. As long as you're willing to accept help, I think it will find you."

Arthur pulled Gwen into a hug and a quick kiss. Once again her willingness to stand by him was all the bolstering he needed, even if she couldn't quite understand what he thought he saw. _He _still wasn't sure he believed what he saw. The past two days had been a confusing blur. Nothing felt the same, which was saying something after the upheaval of losing Merlin. If they couldn't trust themselves, who could they trust?

Reluctantly, he released her. "Thanks for listening. Every day you remind me why I'm so in love with you. I'll see you at dinner?" he asked as he headed for to the door.

Gwen's lovely smile returned. "Wherever you need me to be."

A mischievous streak bubbled up in his mind. "Be careful what you promise. We are lawfully married, remember?" She blushed fiercely, but didn't protest. Arthur reined his wilder thoughts in for her sake, turning serious. "You're the reason I can keep going, Guinevere. I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world."

"I know."

He left the chambers in much better spirits.

* * *

"The hallucinations have only occurred today?" Gaius asked for the third time, while he leafed through a book of herbs.

"If that's what you must call them," Arthur groaned, "yes." He had been poked, pinched, blinded with magnified lights, had his breath smelled, and a couple of things he hoped no one ever found out about for the past twenty minutes. Medical diagnosis was sometimes a strange business. He decided he would stick with being king.

"Well, I can't detect anything that suggests you were given an herb or potion."

"What about spells?"

Gaius paused. "Possibly, though no particular signs are jumping out at me."

"Jumping out, very funny. Could it just be slow acting?"

"I'm not ruling it out, Sire. But I don't pretend to know everything about magic. I'll keep looking in what books I still have."

"Thank you. There might be a few in the relic vaults, I think. I'll get them for you."

"That would help." Apparently turning up nothing for the moment, Gaius closed his current volume. "You sound much more positive about the whole matter. I don't mean to pry, but—"

"Yes, Gaius, I have continued to take it into consideration. I've wondered from time to time if my father's ban is still in the kingdom's best interest, to tell you the truth. Circumstances have often dissuaded me, of course. I won't deny I still have a…gut reaction at the mention of magic. However, I did as you suggested, and thought back over the times Merlin might have…helped."

The court physician let out a little smile. "What was necessary at one time is not usually necessary forever. I don't fault your father for his actions, only for his refusal to consider change. You yourself confronted him about severe measures more than once, I believe."

"I did," Arthur admitted. "I thought he was ignoring the circumstances under which some were driven to magic in the first place. Perhaps if we worked to relieve their desperation, they wouldn't feel a need to hurt others."

"You have grown into a wise and fair king, Sire." Their conversation was interrupted by the sharp whistling of a boiling liquid. Gaius bustled over to his worktable, snatching up a cloth, and using the fabric to lift a glass container from the little fire. After a minute or so, he poured some of the solution into a clean vial. "In the meantime, here's something to quiet your sleep. This whole thing may yet resolve itself. None of the apparitions have touched you, correct?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Then there's no sure reason to think they even can. Let me know as soon as possible if anything changes, good or bad."

"I will Gaius. Thanks again."


	3. Chapter 3

**Belated holidays to all! I meant for this to be a gift earlier, but alas, I'm easily distracted (and writing further on has been rather like pulling teeth, letter by letter). **

**A/N: This chapter got a little graphic; animal lovers, be warned, and see note at the end.**

* * *

He almost made it to the next morning without incident.

_Arthur…_

"Lemme 'lone…" Arthur rolled over, draping one arm around Gwen's shoulders.

_Arthur, it's not safe…they keep trying…_

"Go away, 'm the king…"

_I need your help…_

His head filled with strange blackish mist. Arthur realized the voice belonged to Merlin, and immediately scoured his indistinct surroundings for the gangly servant. Occasionally he caught a flash of red that could be a neckerchief—or flame. But nothing clear. Merlin's breathing was audible, as if he struggled against something.

"Merlin, where are you?" Arthur called into the emptiness. His head echoed chillingly. "You have to tell me if I'm going to help you."

_I can't hold on for long…_

"Come on, you have to give me more than—"

The howl reverberated through Arthur like a physical pain. Suddenly the flying creature broke through the mist, heading straight at him—and he was awake, sitting up in bed.

Arthur gasped for breath; sweat dripped from his bangs. Gaius' potion hadn't worked after all. Such thoughts were quickly wiped from his mind, however, when he actually _saw_ the elusive thing that refused to leave him alone. It crouched on the floor near the curtains. Well, sagged was probably more accurate. Its body was about the size of a cat, and a translucent red, almost glowing from within. The gold eyes radiated exhaustion and fear. It was _a small dragon_. The one he thought he saw in the pyre flames.

And already, it began to flicker out.

_Arthur…_

"Gwen, I need you to wake up, you have to see this!" Arthur hissed, shaking his wife's shoulder. "_Gwen!_"

She nearly jumped right out of bed. Arthur had to cover her mouth before she could cry out in surprise, and then pulled her forward. But it was too late. He turned back around, only to see the creature dissolve into the shadows. Nothing was left to see by the time Gwen was fully up.

"Arthur, what's this about?" she sighed, groggy.

"There was—I swear—the creature from my dream was here! Right in the corner, a miniature dragon!" he blustered. His heart was still racing. The voice had lingered in his head before the dragon disappeared. _It couldn't be…_ "I think…I think it might be Merlin."

Gwen slipped out of bed to survey the corner properly, before walking over to the table. "It's dark, Arthur. You've had a stressful day. You must have been dreaming again. Merlin can't—"

"That's just it, according to Gaius, I wasn't supposed to dream! But I heard Merlin's voice, and then it flew at me, and it showed up here—please, you believed me before. Wherever Merlin went after he died, something's not right." Arthur got up as well to pace the room. He knew Gwen's concerned stare followed him in the dark. Pale moonlight highlighted the edges of nearby objects, including her. "When we had the funeral, I thought I saw something then. A trick of the flames. They almost outlined a dragon, if I thought hard enough."

"Arthur—"

"Gaius thinks there's a possibility I'm right. Okay, he doesn't know about the Merlin-turned-ghost-dragon part yet, but it could all still lead back to magic. And we'll never really know what Merlin was capable of, will we? Cornelius Sigan was able to come back and work sorcery, why not Merlin?"

"I'm not trying to say you're wrong, Arthur," Gwen pleaded. "I'm not sure what to think of all this. But there's not much we can do about it at this hour. I'll be honest, I didn't see anything. You have a bit of Gaius' potion left; take it, and try to rest properly so you can start tomorrow with a level head."

Arthur couldn't entirely refute her. The memory of Merlin's pained cry rang in his ears, the image of the terrified little dragon (an odd juxtaposition) burning in his mind's eye. A creature that could possibly be their lost friend. Part of him screamed to rush out of the chambers, regardless of what he wore, and figure this puzzle out. Merlin had tried to warn him of trouble, twice now. What 'kept trying'?

The cool vial pressed into his hand. He took it. There was so much that didn't make sense, but being dead on his feet wouldn't help. Gwen gently led him back to bed. He downed the potion—why did potions always have to taste so vile? The effects were quick. Once more he drifted off, hoping the sun would bring some answers.

* * *

"There, Sire! The stag has crossed the stream!"

Arthur led the knights at a gallop after the powerful animal. He caught flashes of it between trees, darting adeptly through the underbrush ahead of them. "Keep straight after it! Percival, you're with me. We'll sweep around to its right flank," he directed the party. They all moved accordingly.

Few things matched the thrill of the chase. Arthur loved how the adrenaline heightened his senses, forcing every detail into sharp relief. The sun was warm and the breeze fresh as his horse ran. He and Percival split off for a few dozen yards, quarry still in sight, before circling back in. Their approach was masked by the stag's fear of the main group of pursuers. Arthur readied his spear.

_Merlin would be taking on that little grimace of his right about now. He never did like the idea of actually killing a harmless animal, even if it was put to good use afterward._

Arthur's shot tangled in the big buck's rack, the result of his momentary lapse into thought. But his spear startled and hampered their prey just enough for Elyan's to hit the mark. The creature went down.

The knights congratulated Elyan on the fine catch. Arthur meant to as well, until his horse spooked a bit, tossing at the reins. "What's the matter, boy? Still got energy left?" The horse wouldn't settle down. "I think I'm going to take him to the stream and back, let him work this out."

The water wasn't even out of earshot of the others. Arthur had his sword and crossbow, not that he felt he would need them. This stretch of woods was royal land. It lay too far from the main highway to attract bandits, and poaching was dealt with harshly. Anyway, what band of thieves stood a chance against the knights of Camelot?

A snap of thin wood caught his attention, though he judged it to be other nearby wildlife. The horse finally calmed somewhat, drinking from the quiet stream. Arthur fondly patted the animal's dark coat. "That's better now, right?"

That's when the Questing Beast leapt at them from the fringe of the opposite bank.

Arthur was nearly thrown from his seat. Another magical creature returned from the dead?! He wrestled his horse away from the swiping claws, knowing firsthand the damage they could wreak. Gaius seemed sure they were just apparitions of some kind. Well, this one felt real enough to deal out lethal poison. Arthur didn't want to find out which theory was true.

The Beast roared, and Arthur swore he heard the echo of a human scream. Merlin's. The flash of the dragon was nowhere to be seen (not that he had much leeway to look carefully), but he knew he servant's voice anywhere.

"Away! Forget the stag; we have to go, now!" he shouted as he spurred his horse back toward the others. Half the knights had dismounted to work on the kill. Great. No one had much of a chance to give him a questioning glance, as the thundering footfalls of the Beast spoke for themselves. A huge, snake-headed monster wasn't exactly a common feature in these woods. _At least they can see it this time. _The whole hunting party was very much in trouble. "Everyone still on their mounts, protect the others! OUT WEAPONS!"

Arthur wheeled around with his crossbow ready. The Questing Beast crashed through a thick clump of trees, splintering them. Two knights had to scramble out of the way so as not to be crushed. A spear narrowly missed the Beast's head—thrown by Percival before the big knight leapt onto his shrieking horse.

The spitting-mad creature kept its beady eyes on Arthur the entire time. The rest of the knights were just an annoyance, only swatted at if they got too close. Otherwise, it was intent on getting to Arthur. _Could it possibly REMEMBER me?_ He fired shot after shot at the beast, though the bolts mostly glanced off hard scales. Behind Arthur, Gwaine was having trouble mounting his horse for the animal's terrified bucking.

And then the crossbow jammed. A bit of fletch stem had caught in the locking mechanism on the previous shot, too small for Arthur to get out with his gloved fingers. The Beast reared up to strike.

"_Sire_!"

Elyan appeared in front of him just as the Beast's claws came down. The insane man went nearly flat on his back in the saddle to avoid them—the horse, however, was not so lucky. Razor talons dug into its neck and shoulder. Both animal and rider went down.

"Elyan!" Arthur screamed. This was turning into a nightmare. They had to get out of here. Gwaine, who had finally bested is own horse, led the charge to try to divert the Questing Beast. Leon dove in to check on Elyan, who at least was still moving. Nothing could be done to save the horse, that much was clear. Arthur followed to help untangle the two. A long, bleeding gash rent Elyan's right trouser leg and boot top.

"Just a graze, I'm okay," he gasped. He allowed himself to be led to Leon's horse. Arthur, feeling a bit sick at the whole mess, quickly took his knife to the injured horse's neck. Better to end its suffering now. The whole world felt much heavier as he remounted.

"Everyone retreat! Fast as you can back to Camelot!" he ordered. The group eagerly obliged. Those who still had useful crossbows took to the back, firing parting shots. As expected, the Beast gave chase for awhile. However, its size and need to plow through the close trees was more of a hindrance in a straight run. The horses were more agile, better suited to slip between trunks. By the time the knights broke the forest line, the Questing Beast had fallen behind. Not that it wasn't enraged for having lost its prey. As things were, something seemed to have distracted it—its serpent head shook violently and shrieked.

Merlin's cry returned tenfold as well, so loud Arthur had to cover his ears. His knights appeared to notice some kind of noise, though not such a deafening one. Percival guided his horse alongside Arthur's. "Sire, are you alright?"

Arthur shook his head clear. "Something about the Beast's cry was just grating. Come on, let's get back to the castle before we get any more surprise visits. Elyan needs to see Gaius." He goaded his horse forward once more. The fading cry still rang in his ears.

They reached the gates unimpeded. The going was a bit slow through the crowds of the lower town. Were the streets fuller than usual, or was it just Arthur's adrenaline-flooded mind? He only knew he could not get back within the citadel fast enough. This whole business was beginning to unnerve him. Supposedly destroyed monsters returning to hunt him, messages from his dead servant, haunting dreams…how much more could he take?

A fair-sized group of commoners milled around the main courtyard. Guards tried to talk to them; just about everyone looked scared.

"Sire!" One of the soldiers caught sight of the returning king. "These people say their village was threatened by some kind of creature not an hour ago, just off the highway at the edge of the woods. Go on, tell the king what happened." He ushered a middle-aged trapper forward. The man bobbed his head respectfully several times.

"Your Highness, it appeared out of nowhere—a flying creature whose very skin seemed to blaze. It screeched something terrible, circling the tops of the trees," explained the peasant.

Arthur's brow furrowed. He signaled for Elyan to be taken on to Gaius, and then dismounted so he could speak more privately to this man. A waiting stable hand took the tired horse. "A flying creature? How big was it? Did it hurt anyone? Where did it go?"

"Bigger than an eagle, your Highness, but not by much. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it to be some kind of dragon!" The trapper swallowed hard. Arthur's chest filled with dread. "It didn't attack directly that I saw. As soon as it showed up, I began gathering the vulnerable to get them away. It was intent on something, though. Almost searching. I suppose it could have just been sick or injured, and thus disoriented. But I didn't want to risk lives by waiting to find out."

"You did well," Arthur assured him, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Orric, see that they're taken care of. That explains the crowds in the lower town. We encountered another, more deadly creature while on the hunt, so I don't want anyone returning to the area yet." He gathered the reins of his tired horse. "And I want the council in chambers as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sire."

* * *

**Further A/N: to the SPCA and its supporters (I consider myself one)—I do not, IN ANY WAY, condone violence toward animals. I was, however, trying to go for realism in the case of facing a very nasty, deadly enemy. It is a well-known, if unfortunate fact of history that when a large animal is beyond help, putting the creature down is considered merciful compared to leaving it to a slow, painful death. I apologize to anyone who may have found that bit disturbing. I don't anticipate any more scenes of that nature, thankfully.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter has been a pain in my butt for a long time. I'm still not entirely sure it's how I want it, but I've made several passes at it and I want to update. There comes a point when continuing to mess with a piece will only make it worse. Feel free to let me know what you think!**

* * *

To a degree, Arthur could tolerate apparitions hounding him. He was just one person. But a threat to the kingdom at large he would _not_ stand for. Something had to be done, and quickly. Elyan's injury proved these were not harmless visions. Hopefully Gaius had found something.

Gwen practically tackled him as he reached their private chambers. Arthur nearly allowed himself to collapse into her arms. He was exhausted.

"You're not hurt, are you? Leon just told me what happened—the Questing Beast! I thought it was slain years ago!"

"So did I," sighed Arthur, summoning up what was left of his energy and leading the way through the door.

"And that village terrorized as well? What's going on?" Gwen helped wrestle Arthur's hunting jacket off his shoulders. "It's like those dreams of yours are coming to life!"

Arthur swallowed hard. "I heard Merlin's voice again. His screams. I heard them before the Beast appeared and just before we lost it. Gwen, magic has to be the cause. Whatever it is, it doesn't just want to destroy me. It's using my worst memories to do so." Out of reflex, he probed the old scar in his shoulder from his first encounter with the Questing Beast. The thing had very nearly killed him then…

"And you've talked to Gaius about it? Does he suspect anything in particular?"

"He's never heard of a case like this before. No evidence that I was given something so I would hallucinate, no spells put on me that he could detect. I don't know what he'll think of it affecting the whole hunting party! It just gets worse faster than we can figure anything out." Arthur peeled his sweaty shirt from his back.

"You'll get to the bottom of this, I know it," Gwen insisted. "Go see Gaius before the council gathers. I know he's put every available minute into those books you got for him."

"I just want what's best for the kingdom…he told me maybe it's time we give magic a chance again, but how do I reconcile his words with this chaos? Magic brought it on as well. Pain, hardship, death! Too much death. How do I do I grant freedom _and_ protection for my subjects when it comes to such unpredictable power?"

"Maybe the answers you're looking for will become clear as you focus on the problem at hand," was all Gwen responded with. She helped Arthur into a fresh shirt, and coaxed him out the door again. He grabbed her hand.

"Come with me. The more people I trust who are aware of the situation, the better. And we should check on Elyan."

Gwen nodded, not tugging her hand from his grasp. After not being able to do so for so long, he knew they both treasured the chance to be this openly affectionate. Who knew such a simple gesture could lighten the worst times? Arthur would be grateful for it too, as the next moment shattered all sense of comfort.

It started with a voice that doused Arthur in ice; Merlin's voice, he had no doubt, except this time it was more of a forced moan. Like how Merlin had sounded when he was dying in Arthur's arms. Pained, slowly losing its strength. The sound scared him so badly he almost missed the ominous, quite unconnected breathing. The dark figure that appeared in a cross hallway, however, was unmistakable. Gwen screamed. Arthur swore. The masked warrior just breathed, raising its weapon. They ran for Gaius' chambers.

"Who is that? How'd he get in here?!" asked Gwen, trying not to stumble as Arthur pulled her along.

"It's the apparitions again! He's a knight of Medhir—everyone was under a magical sleep the last time they were here. Well, almost everyone." Arthur's heart twisted. That had been before Morgana had shown her true colors, though her behavior had already become suspicious. He forced Gwen to duck as the unearthly sword split the air above their heads. This was _really_ starting to get old.

The stairway to the infirmary was in sight. Arthur swung his own sword—as if that was really going to deter their pursuer. At this point, he was willing to try just about anything. Two more knights were catching up with the first.

"Gwen, run for it! I'll try to drive them back. Make sure everyone in there is okay!" he shouted, pushing Gwen forward. He barely avoided the blow that followed. A streak of pain flashed across his cheek and raised arm as he stumbled backward. Damn! The speed of the spellbound knights took every bit of concentration Arthur had. He tried not to think of how few of his soldiers had survived the previous encounter with these warriors.

Merlin's voice grew again into an awful howl, and somehow the Medhir knights were impeded in their attack. From the end of the hallway, Gwen cried, "Come on, Arthur! Now's your chance!"

For once, he bolted away from the fight. He knew only magic could truly win against this enemy. It was pointless and stupid to try to play the hero longer than he had to. Gwen opened the door enough for him to dive in, and then they slammed and bolted it.

Arthur sank against the rough wood, breathing hard. "What's going on, Gaius? Why are all these enemies, _magical enemies_, coming back?"

The old physician looked like he could fall over, even though he hadn't just run for his life. But he crossed over to the open book left at his haphazard desk. "I'm still not sure. There's no way to know how many normal rules of magic will apply in this case."

"Great, just great…" Arthur's heart collided with his Adam's apple as the door behind him gave a forceful shudder. If Merlin was the reason they defeated all these enemies before, how were they supposed to beat them now? An even stronger impact reverberated through Arthur's rib cage. Gwen had retreated to Elyan's bedside, holding tightly onto her brother. Gaius scrabbled madly through his book. The immortal warriors on the other side of the door had them cornered. "Gaius, _please_ tell me you have something! _Anything_!"

"I'm searching as fast as I can, Sire! I think—perhaps—" It was a wonder he wasn't tearing pages out of their binding, really. "Yes! I think I have it—move away from the door, so I have a clear shot!"

"_What_?!"

"_DUCK, Sire_!"

Arthur threw himself flat. Gaius roared something about praying to hellcats (that couldn't be what he actually said), and a blast of energy shot right through the wood without a hint of damage. Between the unearthly keening and Merlin's screams, Arthur was sure he was going to go deaf. Then, nothing. It all just stopped. He checked himself over; no new injuries, thought the entire back of him felt like he'd stood too long at a fireplace.

The court physician's eyes lost their tinge of gold. Magic.

"I think I know what's going on, Sire."

"What—how—what did you do?" sputtered Gwen.

"I turned their source of power against them," Gaius replied, sinking to the bench behind him. "As I feared might work."

Arthur finally picked himself up off the floor. "What do you mean, 'feared'? We finally have a way to combat this menace, whatever it is. I may not love magic, but at this point I'll take what I can get!" When Gaius' expression didn't change, however, Arthur felt dread well up in his gut.

"The power fueling their appearances is incredibly strong, Sire. Very rare. First of all you must understand, the balance of the world hangs not only between light and darkness. The living and the dead also play a part. That's why a life must be given for another to be saved or created, for example."

Arthur was confused. "What does that have to do with the apparitions?"

"I'm getting to that. _Emrys _was one of the few believed strong enough to influence life and death itself," Gaius continued. "In life, he could maintain control, of course, but in the spirit world…that magic could be much more vulnerable." He took a deep breath. "I believe the dark spirits may be trying to use his power to tip the balance. And the only way to combat their efforts is to take the power back."

"So Merlin's being used as a weapon on both sides," Arthur concluded heavily. Gwen clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Wait, what's Merlin got to do with any of this?" Elyan piped up. He swung his bandage-wrapped leg over the edge of the cot in spite of his sister's protests. Gaius looked to Arthur for how much to divulge.

Arthur sighed. "What's said in here does not leave this room, is that clear?" He waited for Elyan to nod. There was a certain relief, really, telling people his discoveries of late. He no longer had the burden of carrying the knowledge alone.

"Merlin…had magic. Always did. Apparently some of our assumptions about sorc—about magic _users_ were less than accurate. Some even had a prophetic name for him, Emrys." He pulled up a work stool and dropped onto it, taking a moment to inspect the slash to his forearm for the first time. "And I think your theory is right, Gaius. The apparitions aren't the only things I've seen lately. I've had dreams…strange warnings from Merlin…and there's this mirage-like dragon that began showing up, not like the apparitions at all."

Gaius hauled himself up to get supplies to doctor Arthur's injuries. For once, Arthur sat perfectly still. "Actual manifestations of Merlin? What exactly happens, Sire? Does anyone else notice them?"

"Uh, it was just me until today. The Questing Beast was the first one anyone else saw, and that village today apparently got a fair view of the dragon." He bit his lip as ointment stung the cut to his cheek. "Merlin's presence is strongest when the dragon's around. Most of the time it's only his voice…crying out in pain or struggle. They're just brief moments when he breaks through. It's as if he's trying to fight back on his own. He's been getting weaker every time, though."

"I thought the spirit world was supposed to be separate from this one," said Gwen.

"That is the balanced state," Gaius agreed. "But as I said, I'm not sure anything is that simple with Merlin. The spell I used to send the Medhir away is based on the idea that certain forces can't be entirely removed from this world. If any magical being might have such influence, it's Emrys. The subject was very carefully regarded, even among scholars of the Old Religion. A key to crossing the veil without tearing it would be incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands, as we're seeing now. Even if Merlin was at peace with his death, his own power has suspended him between the two realms. Created a gap, a bridge, as it were."

"But that's also why we can fight back?" Arthur filled in.

"Yes, Sire, I believe so."

"So how do we stop them, and restore the balance?" pressed Gwen.

Gaius took a moment to summon further energy. The whole room felt sucked dry after the latest revelations. "We have to close this gap. They can't influence this world so tangibly if the veil is returned to its proper state. And perhaps in the process…I could return Merlin to this side."

The three younger occupants of the room gaped at the court physician.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Whew, I feel out of breath working on this story. I love it, but at times it's been a bear. Maybe this will teach me to write, edit, and THEN post, in that order again. I've let myself get impatient.**

**But enough rambling...**

* * *

"_We have to close the gap…_

"_And perhaps in the process…I could bring Merlin back to this side."_

The chamber went instantly from feeling hollow to being full to bursting. Bring Merlin back?!

"It would be difficult, and very dangerous, if that's indeed what the text is leading up to. His magic comes from the very power of the earth, not something to tamper with lightly. First we would need to travel to a sacred site of the Old Religion. Magical locations can serve as natural conduits to the veil. That's the most likely place to be able to reach him, but only if we can get there before the spirits can overtake Merlin's will completely."

Gwen swallowed hard. "What happens if you're not in time?"

"…There won't be anything left of him to bring back."

"So, when a sorcerer gets pinned in the middle, anyone can make a grab for their magic?" Elyan asked.

"I doubt just anyone could," sighed Gaius. "To cross the veil from either side would leave most souls extremely unstable. Take the dorocha, for instance, and that was with the veil fully open. Add to that the sheer amount of power in Emrys—we're facing a very strong, very intent spirit, who has probably harnessed the strength of other spirits to achieve their ends."

"Morgana." Arthur's head snapped up from studying his bandages. He could feel the temperature drop with the foreboding that passed through all of them as he looked each of the others in the eye. "We've all seen what she's capable of. Merlin himself sent her to the spirit world. I'm sure she would jump on the chance to strike at Camelot once more, especially if she could use him to do it."

Gwen's brow furrowed. "But she had magic too. Why would she not be in the same position as Merlin?"

"My dear Lady, Morgana may have been a witch, born with power just as Merlin was, but they are leagues apart. She could never hope to match his strength side-by-side," Gaius explained. "And his magic likely forced her across to keep her from endangering the world again. I daresay that would make her all the more vengeful. Merlin only knew a fraction of the scope of his power, much less anyone else; even the prophets weren't entirely sure. No one living could have anticipated his death to result in this."

"Would Morgana be confined once again if we succeed in cutting off this opening?" asked Arthur.

"Yes."

"Let's get to it, then."

At precisely that moment, the locked door was assaulted by rigorous pounding. All four of them jumped. Only after the door clearly refused to budge did a voice call out from the other side. Gwaine's. "Anyone home? You'd better come see this. Arthur, I know you're in there."

Arthur hurried to undo the bolt. The rugged knight gasped for breath on the stairs. His expression did nothing to ease the tension already present in the room.

"We've got a few more friends about to visit, and unfortunately not the pleasant kind," panted Gwaine.

They stood on the battlements overlooking the stretch of green between the castle walls and the forest. An army, bearing the tattered old standard of Cenred, waited silently—the army of immortals created once by Morgana and Morgause. Arthur barely got any sense of Merlin this time. Perhaps a faint whisper quickly swallowed by the wind. This was bigger than anything yet to appear from the spirit world. He hoped their own efforts wouldn't be too late. Leon joined the group.

"The council's assembled, Sire. What do you want us to do? The whole army just appeared all of the sudden…"

"How long have they been standing like that?" asked Arthur.

"Nearly ten minutes. No further flags, commands, or attempts to make contact. The surrounding villages and lower town have been gathered into the citadel. No challenge," the senior knight explained. "I thought they all died when the Cup of Life was emptied of their blood. How is this possible?"

_Once this is over, I owe my Round Table a thorough answer._ "It's a dark, complicated matter which I am already beginning to address. See that the defenses are mobilized, and the people sheltered. I will outline my plan in council."

The captains and knights dispersed to do as they were told. Arthur and Gwen headed for the meeting chambers, where Leon and Gwaine would meet up with them in a few minutes. Gaius already waited in the hall with the other elders. He was tense upon the royals' arrival, a sheaf of parchment with his notes folded in front of him. Quite apart from all the siege preparations, two servants were readying horses for the harrowing mission to the veil. Hopefully, they would return with a living Merlin as well.

"Members of the council, as you know, we are facing a sudden and unforeseen enemy outside our gates," Arthur got straight to the point. "I have uncovered reliable evidence that dark magic is the cause, and fighting alone will not repel them. As we speak, the knights are preparing to command against a siege, while I take a specific party out to handle the source of the magic itself."

Instantly the room erupted in protests. The king himself to leave on a dangerous quest with an army at the walls? Even Gwen was a bit shaken by Arthur's sudden conclusion, and she knew more about the situation than just about anyone. Only Gaius showed any kind of calm, though it still wasn't much. After all, he constituted the 'specific party.'

Arthur gripped Gwen's hand in one of his, and raised the other to stem the noise. "I'm asking you to trust your king. This quest is dangerous, but to not try would cost the whole of Camelot. What kind of king am I if I didn't do everything possible to protect my kingdom?"

"We don't question your courage, Arthur, we just don't want to see you rush wildly into a deadly mission," Gwen spoke up quietly.

"This _needs_ to be done."

"Why not send a patrol out while you stay to handle the main threat?" an elder proffered.

"Because the main threat is the _sorcerer_, not their trickery. The situation is delicate, and I'm sorry, but I don't trust anyone else in the handling of it. Not this time. Please, trust me as your king."

"You have a plan for this quest, then?" asked another.

"As best as I can come up with one," Arthur conceded. The boom of the hall doors behind him announced Leon and Gwaine. "I still don't pretend to understand much about the workings of magic. Sorcerers have wreaked a lot of havoc in Camelot. As a result, it's difficult to see magic as anything other than pure evil. But I have come to realize that some circumstances leave us with few options. It's been done before. Perhaps it's time we realized the value of fighting magic _with_ magic."

Again, protests filled the room. Arthur sympathized with them. In the decades since the Great Purge, magic had become synonymous with trouble, fear, and death. He knew the people would need time to adjust to such drastically different thinking, just as he had. Still was, in fact. In the meantime, however, he had to address the imminent problem, and unfortunately, it required a solution that most people weren't ready for.

Speaking of imminent problems, they didn't have much more time to pander the virtues of potential courses of action. "I wish I could allow for thorough discussion on this topic. Be assured I don't make this decision lightly. But I believe it's the best chance the kingdom has. And maybe we've been wrong all along. Maybe it is how people use magic, rather than magic itself, that makes it good or bad. When Camelot is safe again, I want to include everyone in deciding how to address magic from here." He motioned discreetly to Gaius, who rose, slipping out through the servants' door.

"Leon will be in command in my stead, with Gwaine as his second and Guinevere in charge of castle affairs." Arthur squeezed his love's hand. "I will return as soon as possible." With that, he turned and left the hall. That had to be the most uncomfortable exchange he had ever conducted. He tried not to think about what support he would have upon his return. Did he really think attitudes toward magic could change enough to accept his actions? His suddenly appointed proxies followed close behind, just as confused.

* * *

**I know, evil cliffie! I didn't realize until I started going through it for chapter breaks how DENSE this story is. But my pace is picking up, so hopefully I'll be posting in quicker succession. I'll try not to get too distracted (...ooh, shiny...squirrel!...youtube videos of colin morgan...). ::facepalm::**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I need someone here to kick me for over-perfectionism. It's getting in the way of the loads of BAMFness coming up for this and subsequent chapters. That is all.**

* * *

The little group hurried along the corridors of the citadel. Gwaine was the first to find his voice. "You're not serious about trying to _use_ magic? What exactly have you and Gaius been cooking up the past few days?!"

"It really is the only way to stop this, Gwaine," growled Arthur. "I'm as hesitant as the next person, but we don't have much choice. Besides, there's a lot more at stake that I don't have time to explain right now." _I really wish I did…I promise to, when I can… _They emerged into the courtyard, where Gaius, the servants, and three horses waited. "Let's just say I consider the risk worth it."

He nervously patted the neck of his horse. With all the refugees milling around the courtyard, the tension was palpable. Camelot's future depended on the possibility that he and Gaius would succeed against a powerful, angry spirit, wielding magic they knew almost nothing about. Oh, and that was assuming they got past the reincarnated immortal army first.

Gwen hugged Arthur fiercely. "Please be careful. We need you to come back. _I_ need you to."

"You know I want to promise that I will," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and planting a soft kiss to her forehead. "Gaius and I will do everything in our power, and we'll bring Merlin back. In the meantime, you be careful as well. Take care of the people until we can get through. I know you can do it."

"We need to go, Sire," Gaius pressed from atop his horse. The staff from under Merlin's bed was wrapped and tied to his saddle bag.

"Make sure the battlement forces are ready," Arthur called to Leon. "Our best chance at a clean exit is under cover fire. Protect Gwen while I'm gone."

"Of course, Sire," replied the senior knight.

A single shout parted the crowds to make way for the three horses. They passed through to the upper streets at a good clip, the mass of people thinning the farther they got from the keep. Arthur felt his heart quickly take up all the space in his chest, knowing what they were about to face. Far above, the first volley from the defenses shot out toward the enemy.

He nodded to Gaius. "Let's go. Try to stay between me and the wall until we reach the trees. I'll take as much of the brunt as I can."

They slipped through the side gate. The nearest soldiers were about twenty paces away, and as Arthur feared, they quickly honed in on his presence. Only the steady rain of bolts from crossbows gave him and Gaius, who was leading the extra horse, any distance on the apparitions. And still one or two got close enough to strike. _Morgana's efforts must give them unnatural speed. They shouldn't be able to match a running horse!_ The whizz of a blade narrowly missed his left hip; Arthur struck out behind him, to be rewarded with a solid impact and a yelp.

But now was not a time to focus on fighting back. Their mission was based on evasion, hopefully drawing on Merlin as little as possible. There was no sign of the little glowing dragon that usually appeared at these times. The absence worried Arthur.

Immortal soldiers still trailed behind them as they hit the tree line. Distracting as the cover fire was, mere bolts would not fell them. The sight was rather disturbing, actually, like being chased by living curse dolls. A sudden wave of fear crashed over Arthur—if those men breached the wall somehow, Camelot would be decimated. Even if this mission succeeded, what kind of city would await them upon return?

_Don't lose focus!_ Merlin's presence burst into Arthur's thoughts, so unexpected he checked his horse's gait. The surprise might very well have saved his life. The soldiers had fallen behind, but the Questing Beast now crashed into their path, right where Arthur would have been if his horse were still at a gallop. Arthur felt, rather than saw, the ghostly form of his friend swoop around his shoulders. The dragon was barely visible, struggling to stay in the air, as it rushed the angry Questing Beast.

"Merlin!"

But the ghostly creature ignored Arthur. It wobbled around the Beast's head like a large fly, driving the foe into a frustrated rage…and off the path. Gaius was the first to recognize the opportunity, spurring his horses forward. Arthur followed only when he realized the exposed position the old physician was going into. "Hey! You're supposed to stay behind me for defense, remember?"

"We don't have time to always worry about that," Gaius chided him. "Merlin's doing what he can to give us a chance. Don't waste it!"

Arthur knew Gaius was right. That didn't completely assuage his concern, however. Merlin was fading, rapidly. Arthur didn't like being in yet another situation where the wayward servant was so reckless with his own life. The last time they were in this situation, he lost. They were trying to help him, dammit!

The roars of the Questing Beast dissipated into the thick of the trees as they pressed on. Arthur could still feel Merlin's presence shudder with exertion, which put him on edge. Morgana knew what they were up to. She was going to throw everything possible at them. And poor Merlin was going to pay all the more for it.

The forest took on an eerie silence. No birds, no wind, no signs to betray the approach of an enemy. Arthur scanned every inch of visible space without pause. He was not going to breathe a sigh of relief for the quiet, knowing Morgana waited for such a moment so she could pounce. _Come on, I won't be caught off guard. Just pull your tricks already! _He could imagine his half-sister's cruel laugh, how she enjoyed toying with him like this. They continued on, their surroundings taking on the premature twilight of the woods.

A huge, shrieking mass knocked Arthur clear out of his saddle. Streaks of pain raked his already injured forearm, quickly followed by his jarring connection with the ground. Powerful wingbeats buffeted him with air and forest debris. He dimly recalled his long-ago encounter with the real griffin.

Gaius bellowed words Arthur couldn't understand even if he was thinking clearly. He was already preoccupied with coaxing oxygen into his stunned lungs. His horse skittered around, close to stomping its fallen rider.

Before he could get up, an almighty cry and a wave of power rushed over Arthur. Merlin's magic, he recognized by now, blasted the griffin into shards of light. And the presence behind it quickly weakened to a mere flutter against Arthur's chest. _Hang in there, Merlin._

The path was reduced to grey-green light, horses' squeals, and heavy human breathing. Gaius dismounted and hurried over to Arthur. "Sire! Are you alright?"

"I'll live. Get me up, we're wasting time."

"We should do something about your arm—"

"Just wrap it, Gaius. I can manage the rest until we get through with this." He accepted the physician's hand to get him to his feet. Between the two of them, they pulled Arthur's ruined sleeve together with a thick piece of linen bandage. After checking that his horse was unharmed, they set off again. "How far do we have to go?"

"At this rate? A couple hours still. Let us hope not every attack will be this involved," puffed Gaius.

Arthur very much doubted they would have such luck. This had to be only the beginning. The closer they got to their destination, the more desperate Morgana would become. He made ready his sword before they resumed pace. Again Merlin had gone silent. This fact only served to spur Arthur on. He had lost Merlin once. He would not abandon his friend to eternal enslavement in the spirit world.


	7. Chapter 7

Sure enough, Morgana made every attempt she could on their lives. When Arthur felt Merlin's presence these times, it was as if his traitorous sister also breathed down his neck. Merlin as they had known him was slowly disappearing. Every time Gaius had to resort to magic, Arthur flinched for his dead friend as well as out of habit toward suspicious power. Accepting magic as a boon was harder than he ever would have imagined. Not that he had much chance to ponder the nuances of the situation. They were far from safe.

The knights of Mehir reappeared to block a particularly constricted section of the path. Gaius had no choice but to blast them right out. At least the Black Knight (its hideous face left uncovered this time) was something they could outrun long enough for it to fade. Perhaps Merlin had a hand in that one; constant adrenaline made it hard for Arthur to tell. But the little blue flying people were tricky. They were naturally fast already, it seemed, and only that much faster under Morgana's control. One latched onto Arthur's horse's ears, driving it wild. Another dug its sharp claws into Arthur's neck. He couldn't do more than swat at the thing as he tried to keep the horse from crashing into trees. Gaius kept pace, easily dispatching of his own assailants, but he had just as much trouble finding a shot across that didn't risk the king's life. Towing the third horse only complicated the whole matter.

"Can't you just knock it off with the staff or something? Ahh!" shouted Arthur, head jerking back as the fairy-thing grabbed a fresh hold. He at least managed to dislodge the one on his horse with a swing of his blade. "I need you to do something!"

A dark blur flashed in his peripheral vision a couple times. Then a powerful _whack_ caused white to flash before his eyes. Only his newly regained control of his horse kept him from falling off. However, the scrabbling little cretin was gone from his neck. A weary sigh from Merlin echoed in his mind.

Gaius rode up close as they slowed down, trying to untangle the mess of reins in his right hand. "My apologies, Sire—"

"That'll do, Gaius." Arthur rubbed out the worst of the pain in his head and neck, ignoring the spots of blood that came away on his glove. Pattering rain began to filter through their leafy ceiling. "I've kept on with worse. Just please tell me we don't have much farther to go."

"We should catch sight of the lake before too long, Sire. The chase has covered quite some distance." He looked curiously at Arthur. "Any sense of Merlin?"

"He's still there, just barely. I keep feeling Morgana trying to overpower him, though. He's running out of time." Voicing his fears produced a hard lump in Arthur's gut.

"We'll get him back. Merlin has always managed to hold on."

"Until I wasn't able to get there fast enough…"

"His death was not your fault, Sire. No one, certainly not Merlin, I imagine, holds you responsible." Gaius' grip on his reins tightened with conviction. "I know it must feel like this is your chance to be redeemed. I won't deny feeling like I failed him in some way myself. But destiny is bigger than all of us. We have to trust that what is meant to happen will work out. Don't put more on yourself than you deserve."

Arthur couldn't hold back a sheepish grin. Good old Gaius. Perhaps he _had_ been holding onto some guilt. Perhaps that's why he was willing to go to such lengths for a servant who had become a friend. The thought had never occurred to him before—why he was willing to face even his entire perception of magic on the chance that he could bring Merlin back. He had never considered anything too extreme for the sake of those he truly cared about.

Then there was the fact that doing nothing meant the downfall of Camelot. With or without Merlin's involvement, as king, Arthur couldn't sit by and let his kingdom die. He had never stopped to think about taking this mission because he never considered it something that needed thought _about_. His loyalty to country and companions _defined_ him. A king may not have as much luxury with friends on a casual level, but if there's one thing Arthur learned in his short reign so far, it was that he could not be a successful leader without steadfast allies. His father had been wrong in that regard. People like Merlin were the reason Arthur still had his throne.

_Hold on, Merlin; we're coming for you._

A sudden whirlwind in a nearby clearing caused the horses to dance sideways. Arthur only just caught sight of blonde hair and a red skirt before he was blasted once more off his mount. Unusually gritty soil met him upon landing. _Strange. _His sword was gone. Gaius lay only a couple feet away, staff luckily still in hand.

"Why do you insist on meddling in powers you know nothing about?" Morgause's sharp voice lashed out as she stalked toward them. The rain began to pick up considerably, though it didn't seem to touch her.

Arthur swiped blood and water from his left eye, where it had trickled down from his hairline. "This is no longer your world, witch, or your damned sister's. We defeated you once, and we'll do it again."

"Ha! Then you're even more stupid than Morgana thought. How do you plan on accomplishing that without your pet warlock?" Morgause lifted the both Arthur and Gaius and slammed them down some ten feet further back. Rough, loose dirt filtered down Arthur's collar. Spikes of pain radiated from his left elbow quite apart from the gashes just below it. In the back of his mind, he realized Merlin's presence was fading despite the magic at work. The witch smirked. "You feel it, don't you? How he's slipping away from you. And when he finally gives in, my triumphant sister will rule unopposed over both worlds. So I'll say again, what could you possibly have left?"

"No!" howled Arthur. In that same moment, a white beam soared over his head, and crashed into the apparition. Morgause screamed as she dissolved into the rain. Arthur flailed wildly in what he realized was coarse sand, looking for the source of this new magic. Gaius was only beginning to regain his own bearings. This time the staff lay some distance away from them both.

A pale figure approached from across the little beach, mildly glowing in the grey evening. She had long, dark hair, a white gown, and quite apart from everything else they had encountered on this mission, possessed no air of menace. All the same, Arthur scrambled for the knife hidden in his boot. The figure stopped, putting up a slim hand.

"I'm not here to harm you, Arthur Pendragon. This is still my domain, unlike the shades you have been fighting. Merlin brought me here long ago, when I was dying, and Avalon charged me with protecting this sacred place."

"M-Merlin? You knew Merlin?" stammered Arthur. He rose unsteadily to help Gaius, yet was not willing to turn his back on the stranger. The physician was equally soaked through and covered in sand. "Explain yourself!"

The girl smiled. "There is so much more to him than you realize, even now. He risked everything to save me when no one else would. This time I can help him…and you."

"Forgive me if recent events still leave me suspicious. Who exactly _are_ you?"

Surprisingly, Gaius elbowed him. "The Lady of the Lake…" he explained wearily. "Keeper of the way to Avalon itself. It was foretold that Emrys would imbue an emissary of sorts to the realm of the spirits. I didn't realize it had already come to pass."

"Merlin knew me as Freya, for the short time we had together," explained the girl. Even as a spirit, her blushing demeanor spoke volumes.

"You mean he—you—he actually—" Arthur didn't know how many more revelations about Merlin he could take. If they managed to drag the unruly servant back into this world, he was going to be explaining until they were grey around the ears. But this _did_ speak to why Merlin acted so oddly on the subject of love. Why he was so adamant about Arthur's own love for Gwen.

"There's not much time. At this moment, Morgana is mustering her next attack. I can help hold her off while you complete the spell." Freya looked steadily at each of them. "Merlin spoke highly of both of you, of his belief in Albion. And I believe in him."

Arthur tipped her a curt nod. "Maybe we'll actually stand a chance now. Gaius, are you ready?"

"I need the book in my saddle bag, Sire. And the vial wrapped in cloth, the one not in my medicine satchel." The old physician was still recovering from being thrown around, though he seemed largely unhurt.

"I'll get it. Freya, you stay with him, keep him safe. The horses aren't far." Arthur took off for the tree line, praying that was still true.

* * *

**A/N: I know, cheesy fluff moment between Arthur and Gaius, but it occurred to me that it had to hit Arthur at some point-why was he jumping so readily into this? And it had to be acknowledged that he would undoubtedly carry some guilt for not being able to save Merlin the first time. I really struggled with where to put it. At least it adds length to the journey, which I was afraid would sound rushed. As always (I know I forget to actually say it), reviews much appreciated!**

**Oh, and congrats to Colin for his well-deserved win at the NTAs!**


	8. Chapter 8

"_The horses aren't far." Arthur took off for the tree line, praying that was still true._

The three skittish animals roamed a long stretch of the wet road where Morgause had ambushed them. After checking for signs of approaching enemies and retrieving his sword, he at least got them tied to trees within ten paces of each other. The last thing they needed was to lose all their supplies in the midst of battle. Gaius' horse was the last to be caught, and Arthur quickly found the old book and bound fabric. Emotion spiked through his chest as he realized it was one of Merlin's old spare neckerchiefs around the little bottle.

"Look out!"

The heavy sword of a Medhir nearly split Arthur in two at the shoulder, if he hadn't ducked and rolled under the horse. Them _again_?! Mud lengthened his slide by a few paces. Making sure that nothing was damaged, he sprinted for the beach with the knights on his tail. Freya shot bolts of light at them when she could, but it seemed she could only use so much power in a given time.

"My brother, always eager to be the hero!" laughed a high, cruel voice.

Arthur spun around, sword out, as he reached Gaius. Morgana advanced on them with the knights. Unlike the apparitions, her own form was strangely hazy. Perhaps from the strain of having to fight for her own physical appearance…or it could just be the rain. However, this new feat drew pained groans from Merlin. Dying groans.

"I must admit he's put up quite the valiant effort. Nothing less than what's to be expected of the famed Emrys—ah-ah-ah, little spirit girl." Morgana threw a hand out toward Freya. "Your power won't work on me so easily. My soldiers are mere figments of magic; I hold the very soul of your precious friend."

Arthur deflected one of the knights away from Gaius, who had unwrapped a bottle of ashes from the neckerchief and was now searching for the page he needed in the book. Freya turned her attacks on the other Medhir while also chanting in what Arthur assumed was the Old Religion. Some words he recognized from Gaius' spells. Meanwhile, Gaius had now moved into the shallows of the lake and was intoning something new and ominous at the top of his voice.

Morgana was fast. Nothing Freya did could touch her, and the knights kept Arthur out of striking distance of his ghostly sister. Merlin's tortured cries rose among the intertwining spells until Arthur was sure his ears must be bleeding from the magic-filled noise. A _crack_ rent the thick air, seemed to ripple through all their bodies. Gaius' spell must be making headway.

"I will not let you sneak through this time!" the spirit of Morgana shrieked. She blazed through the driving rain toward Gaius. Even one of the Medhir was obliterated from her path.

Arthur let out a strangled yell, and pounced on her. His blade didn't actually hurt her, of course, but the force of his attack halted her progress. She drew a knife—the one Arthur himself had once given her—and started slashing at him in return. He could barely keep up with her blows.

"Too many times have you managed to squeak through in the end! No more! You can't kill me this time, nothing can. Thanks to Merlin, I will crush you all, and take what is rightfully mine at last!"

"The spirit world is no more yours than this one was!" Arthur retorted. Morgana's blade reopened the gash on his cheek. "Whatever it takes, I will stop you!"

Their weapons tangled. Morgana took the opportunity to press in close. "Whatever it takes eh? Even if it costs Merlin his soul?" She smiled as Arthur's face paled. "I know you can feel it. Relying on him to fight me is destroying him. He's nearly gone. So you see, even if you try to defeat me, you're still losing." She threw Arthur to the ground. His bad arm crumbled underneath him.

"This is about more than just Merlin. He knows the risks of protecting the kingdom. He would gladly be sent to the spirit world forever if that's what's necessary," he growled back at the witch. Pain hampered his breathing. "_That's_ why we always squeak through. And why you're self-centered missions never get anywhere in the end."

At that moment, Gaius' words gave way to a quickly building roar. As Morgana screamed with rage, raising her knife to strike Arthur, a maelstrom of wind, rain, and magic closed in on her and overtook the entire beach at the same time. It blotted out all of Arthur's senses, even his connection to Merlin. His sister was swept away in the sheer power. It took a few moments to register his own body dragging through the rough sand. He had no idea what was happening to Gaius or Freya. Certainly no idea of Merlin's fate. He could only hold on and wait for it all to die down.

Finally it did, leaving Arthur to choke on air filled with moisture and debris. Whatever Gaius had conjured left a fog as dense as fresh whipped cream. At least the rain seemed to have stopped. Arthur furiously worked his streaming eyes for any sign of the others. The first thing he made out was the soft glow of Freya's spirit. Dare he believe that she knelt next to a gangly dark form?

A mixture of irrational fear and elation propelled him forward despite the pain radiating through every inch of his body. A hoarse Gaius called from somewhere nearby, but Arthur ignored him. He had to know—the stress of everything he had been through over the past few days was going to overwhelm him if he didn't get some kind of resolution soon.

The body was more in the water than out. Freya had turned him onto his back, revealing a fiery glow just receding from the sand-crusted dark hair and pale skin. There was no sign of the torture that had led up to his death weeks ago. Yet he was utterly still. All at once, Arthur was afraid to touch him.

"Come on, Merlin…"

Suddenly the ragged young man came alive with violent coughing and tremors. Concern overtook Arthur's fear as he pulled his friend into a semi-sitting position, though he had no idea what to do. The gasping soon quieted to troubled moans, but if Merlin was anywhere near consciousness, he was losing that battle.

Freya put a hand to his clammy forehead. "He's very weak, but he made it. And Morgana was cut off from this world once Merlin was pulled from the veil. You did it." She gave Arthur a warm smile.

"No, you and Gaius did it—Gaius! I should find him. Keep watch over Merlin, will you?"

"Of course," agreed Freya. "But you should know, much of the spell is only as strong as the love of his friends. You gave him an anchor to this world when his own power was failing."

Arthur was glad of the darkness and fog for a moment—he imagined his face had grown quite red. He was heartened, however, to know that he had played a part in bringing Merlin back after all.

Gaius was staggering to his feet at the end of the beach line, quite windswept and drained, when Arthur reached him. "Sire?" he called out once more. The staff he clutched was in smoking pieces. Arthur steadied his invaluable mentor, checking the older man over for any significant injuries. Gaius' protests seemed to be a good sign. "Enough fussing over me! What's happened?"

"It worked, Gaius, it actually worked—Morgana's gone, and Merlin's alive! Freya's sitting with him now."

"We'll need supplies from the horses." The physician was instantly all business despite how drained he obviously was. "None of us will go far if we don't get dry soon. Get Merlin within the shelter of the trees, away from the water. I'll start a fire." At first he wobbled on the moldable sand, but he pushed Arthur away. "Get going!"

Again he only found his way by Freya's light. The spirit girl tenderly cradled Merlin. Arthur realized for the first time that his warlock-servant wore the exact outfit of his funeral, right down to the ratty neckerchief. His sodden jacket couldn't be helping the shivering, though. If it weren't for Merlin's as yet uncertain condition, Arthur was loathe to disrupt the little scene. Freya's care radiated like a full moon in the night. She had truly _missed_ Merlin.

"Freya…" Arthur's voice cracked awkwardly, "I have to get him to camp. He won't last long like this…"

By her expression, she had already resigned herself to the fact that their time together was borrowed. Arthur wondered if spirits could cry. He would not fault her in the slightest for it. Slowly, the mirage girl bent to give Merlin a soft kiss before nodding to the king.

"I must return to the lake now that the balance has been restored. This place is still under my charge. You are safe however long you stay here. Take care of him, Arthur Pendragon. Farewell, and thank you."

"And to you," replied Arthur. He lifted his soaked friend into his arms with difficulty, owing to whatever further damage he had caused his left elbow. Most of the weight had to be propped to his right side. Freya also rose; she faded away into the mist above the water. Merlin's breathing echoed harsh and labored in the silence that followed. He may be alive, but he was far from alright. Arthur trudged up the beach with the last of his long-spent energy. Thankfully, Gaius had a fire, blankets, cloaks, and medicines all laid out when he reached the trees.

"Start with one to dry him off," instructed the old physician, holding out one of the lighter coverings. "You should get dry, too."

"After he's warmed up," Arthur huffed. He tried not to show how much his injuries bothered him. Once Merlin's jacket, boots, and neckwear had been removed, they both went to work de-saturating him as much as possible. At least the wheezing had quieted to just the occasional soft whimper. Arthur vigorously rubbed down his friend's stringy black locks, his frozen fingers, his quaking chest and shoulders.

Once the moisture was minimized, Gaius tucked two fresh, heavier blankets into a cocoon around the frail manservant, and positioned him as close to the fire as he dared. Then he poured a warming draught for all three of them. Toward the lake, the fog began to dissipate at last.

"Will he be alright?" croaked Arthur.

"We should keep a close eye tonight, but it appears so. Now, take care of yourself before you get as bad as he is."

"You're sure _you're_ okay, Gaius? I don't want you overextending—"

"_Sit! _By the Triple Goddess I will make sure you stay in one piece for once on this mad venture."

This time, Arthur obeyed. He scrubbed at his own sore shoulders and damp trousers, bundled up in his unpacked cloak, and allowed Gaius to see to his arm and cheek. Again. He kept his mind occupied by studying every detail of Merlin's current appearance, relaxed slightly as he warmed. Silence reigned for a good ten minutes.

"My apologies for shouting at you, Sire," Gaius spoke at last, securing Arthur's arm into a sling. "It's just…you know Gwen would have all our heads if she saw the state of us right now. You'll need to be careful with this, especially."

Arthur cracked a smile at this attempt to lighten the mood. "That she would. Thank you, Gaius. It feels much better. Freya said we're safe within her boundaries. I can take first watch. Get some rest."

"I think we both know you're in much greater need of it. The past days have been hard on you in every way possible. Let yourself sleep—I will not argue with you on the matter, Sire."

"The horses haven't even—"

"_I will take care of them_, Sire. Trust that those who know you the best have matters in hand. I promise I will wake you if some disaster is about to befall us," Gaius pressed kindly

Chuckling out of sheer release of tension (and yes, exhaustion), Arthur settled into his bedroll without further protest. Now if he could just figure how best to situate his bad arm…

* * *

**A/N: There you have it-the moment we've all been waiting for! I've been ridiculously picky about the return tableau; it was the first thought I had about this whole story, before I had any clue how to get there. Then I foundthe root of the action, Freya's lovers' moment, and Gaius' age-and-experience bid, which made me giggle. It's just become one of those chapters that makes me squirm in my chair every time (I know, very self-indulgent). I hope it met expectations! Anyway, fret not, it's still not the end yet. There's too much havoc left to wreak on poor Arthur's emotions ::evil grin::**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, by itself, this turned into a rather uneventful, seriously introspective chapter. Lots of fluffiness, reassuring Arthur that he's not off his nut about the whole business. But it's also kind of a sigh of relief after ratcheting up the tension for so long. We'll get moving again in the next chapter, I promise :)**

* * *

Cold and stiffness greeted Arthur when he woke, just before dawn; the fire was low, and the nearby water and shore was coated in ordinary mist. His first thought was why he had been allowed to sleep so long, but his protesting injuries at the slightest movement kept him from blurting this out to Gaius. Regardless, his own welfare was far from top priority in his mind. He gingerly rose to a sitting position.

The clearly weary physician checked over a still-unconscious Merlin. Arthur hoped it was just the pale not-quite-dawn that gave his manservant such a ghostly appearance.

"How is he?"

"Holding on," Gaius replied, tipping some kind of medicine between Merlin's lips. "His spirit's taken a lot of strain from both sides of the fight, Sire, only to be pulled back into the rigors of working a human body. The weather certainly hasn't helped. Perhaps you could get more firewood, if you're up to it? I think we'd all feel better for that."

Arthur nodded. He could use something to occupy his mind, get him moving again. Anything to keep him from just staring at Merlin. The forest was quiet. He bundled tightly into his cloak, only extending his good arm to pick up fallen sticks and pieces of branches. The menial labor was strangely therapeutic after such a stressful quest—he should find little things like this to do more often. Give Merlin a break from time to time. Goodness knew the manservant deserved it.

The open air was considerably lighter in color by the time he returned to camp. Gaius had forgone his own cloak in an effort to ease the chills Merlin had developed. Arthur hurried to rebuild the fire. "Put that back on! I don't need two ill subjects, least of all my physician!"

Gaius obeyed with a small smile. Arthur knew he ultimately couldn't tell his old mentor what to do, not really. Not to say that Gaius was insubordinate, of course. It was simply hard for Arthur to imagine being above a man who had significantly contributed to his raising. Arthur respected him and his wisdom.

The fire flared into new life. After donating his bedding to Merlin in place of Gaius' cloak, Arthur gratefully warmed his numb fingers at the flames. He was about ready to check Merlin's progress, in fact, when the unconscious man heaved a great sigh. The first real sign of life since that first awful coughing fit. Arthur leaned closer.

"Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me?"

The dark lashes fluttered. Slowly, they revealed bleary blue eyes. Both Arthur and Gaius jumped forward. Never mind that Merlin barely reacted to them. He was waking up! Maybe…sort of…

"How do you feel?" asked Gaius, checking Merlin's pulse and temperature. Merlin sucked in another groggy breath, but didn't speak.

Arthur was grinning uncontrollably. "Do you remember anything? Have any pain? You're back, safe now, Morgana won't—"

Merlin stiffened, delirious gaze full of fear. He made the feeblest attempt at struggling Arthur had ever seen. And it obviously taxed him of all the energy he had, quickly. Gaius hurried to prepare something, so it fell to Arthur to hold his trembling friend still.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry. That was stupid of me. I'm a clotpole, alright? Listen, she's _gone_, she can't get to you anymore." The blankets slipped from Merlin's shoulders. Arthur tried to right them and cradle Merlin's head at the same time. "We took care of her for good. You're safe, we're all safe." An idea struck him. "Hey, Freya was here. She helped, she made sure you came back."

Just as quickly as Morgana's name instilled terror, the mention of Freya calmed him down. His thin shoulders sagged into Arthur's grip, and the smallest smile curled Merlin's features. Gaius turned to them with a vial of potion. Arthur gently knuckled the servant's chest to wake him up. "Hang on, there. We need you to drink something first."

Merlin grimaced at the taste. If the smell was anything to go by, Arthur didn't blame him. Then he began to squirm again when Gaius put a second vessel to his lips.

"It's just water, Merlin," soothed Gaius. "Your body has much to recover from." Between the two of them, they coaxed a fair amount of the plain liquid down Merlin's throat. He looked less troubled as they at last allowed him to sink back into unconsciousness. Arthur could be content with that for now. Having settled his friend into the blankets once more, he sat back to watch the sun begin to crown the distant mountains.

"We should make for Camelot soon, if you think he'll be able to travel. The sooner he has a proper bed and food, the better. And I need to know the state of the kingdom. Make sure Gwen and the knights are okay, and everything," he told Gaius.

His longtime friend and advisor nodded. "I agree, Sire. This episode has certainly been a step in the right direction. We should be able to get him on the horse once it's fully light. Until then, you should eat something."

"Only if you agree to rest, Gaius. You've earned it."

Arthur watched Gaius settle into his layers of covers. They could wait until midmorning to get moving; all three of them were a little the worse for wear, in their own ways. The return journey would have to be taken at a manageable pace. Arthur found he didn't mind the idea, even if he was worried for everyone back home. Merlin was alive and Morgana had been routed, that was plenty to be getting on with for the time being. And to boot, there was this inexplicable sense of peace here at the lake. Arthur could yet grow accustomed to this side of magic, if he encountered it more often.

Merlin slept soundly well past the sunrise. Arthur welcomed the return of light and warmth after the long night, how everything looked normal again. Well, almost normal. His resurrected friend was still far too pale to be liked, even if his breathing and heart rate were acceptable. Arthur removed a glove so he could feel Merlin's forehead. Blast, he was developing a fever after all. Balancing the chills and the heat of the fire probably masked it during the night.

That silly old neckerchief was still a bit damp, having been ignored as soon as it was removed. Arthur dribbled some fresh water on the fabric for good measure, and proceeded to hold it against Merlin's face and neck. Merlin didn't flinch. How odd it seemed, for the king to be tending his servant. But Arthur realized he wouldn't have it any other way. How many times over did he owe his life to the man before him? Was it so bad to nurse a friend in need? If this were a quest or patrol without any kind of physician, it would naturally fall to the other members to care for an infirm companion. And Merlin, despite his status and the grief Arthur gave him for it, had always been a companion in the end.

Besides, he had promised Freya.

The sun climbed higher, to the point where Arthur was glad of the shade. He nibbled on provisions as he alternated watching the clouds' reflection on the lake and checking Merlin. His cloak was no longer necessary, which prompted him to start cleaning up anything they wouldn't need before setting off again. Which led to lightly rubbing down the horses, who, while base needs had been taken care of, were not too happy about being left in their saddles and bridles. All of which took him twice as long as usual given his left arm was in a sling. No one was present or conscious to see if he carefully used it once or twice…

"Sire?"

Arthur jumped, causing the nearest horse to react in kind. Gaius had woken in his absence, confused as to the king's whereabouts. "I'm just with the horses. Figured I might as well start on packing what I could, and making sure things were ready."

"Fair enough." The physician rose stiffly, pulling his covers with him so he wouldn't have to bend down to fold them. In the process, his gaze swept his unconscious nephew. "Anything more from Merlin?"

"He's running a fever, though it doesn't seem too bad. I did what I could. We should get him back to Camelot as soon as possible." Arthur returned to the fireside—he had purposely let it die down this time.

Gaius nodded his agreement. "Yes, that is becoming prudent. I'll give him something for it before we leave, as well as to let him sleep on the journey. That would probably be easiest for him, I think."

They set about packing in earnest. Arthur heaved a sigh as he ran his good hand over the red dragon insignia on one of the packs. "Do you think everyone's okay back in Camelot, Gaius? We left them facing an invincible enemy…"

"Your knights are the finest in the five kingdoms, Sire. I have every confidence in their ability to hold the defenses."

"I suppose. I mean, I don't doubt them either. It's just…I left them when the city needed its king the most. What will the people think of such a ruler?"

"As you said to the council, there would have been no hope for Camelot if we didn't confront the source of the magic. I think your motives and decisions were sound. And you succeeded, in the end. Don't weigh yourself down with questions of what else you could have done."

Arthur looked out over the lake. "It's so peaceful here. Almost as if I can feel…I don't know…_life_, at its simplest. I wish I could take it with me."

"It's said that magic isn't just a tool for those who can touch it," offered Gaius. "They say it's the very life force of the earth, the reason we all exist in the first place. I'm sure you could find it anywhere, if you're willing to look for it." He attempted to stretch his old limbs. "Now, between the two of us, we need to figure out some way to get Merlin onto the horse."

"Why not use magic?"

The physician suddenly looked sheepish. "I—well—habit, I suppose, Sire. And I wasn't sure how…comfortable you'd be with the suggestion."

"Well, we've come this far. I meant what I said, about reevaluating the status of magic in Camelot. You and Merlin have shown me its potential for good." To both their surprises, Arthur smiled. He certainly never expected to feel gladness in saying those words. The past weeks had opened the door to many new opportunities. "To be sure, it would have to be subject to regulation just like trading or any other public activity. But like you said, it can't be evil just by itself."

Gaius bowed, a relieved smile of his own firmly in place. He carefully removed Merlin's blankets, and with a few incomprehensible words, lifted the young man like a puppet onto the extra horse (which didn't seem to know what to make of the strange situation at all). Arthur instructed Gaius how to tie Merlin into the stirrups, after which one of the cloaks was wrapped over his thin frame. From there they could finish packing and make sure the fire was doused. In a briefly embarrassing moment, Gaius had to then help Arthur onto his own horse, again because of the wretched sling. This was going to be a long healing process, indeed.

"Thank you, Freya, for everything," he whispered to the lake air. Maybe it was just his imagination, but the gentlest of winds brushed his back. The sun peeked around one of the few clouds in the sky. Everything felt right again.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm not distracted by other stories, I promise! Okay, that's a lie. But I actually do have the rest of this one written and edited, finally. We're in the home stretch now!**

* * *

They rode at a purposeful clip, neither taking their leisure nor wanting to rush. Not only did they have Merlin to think about, being unable to direct his own horse, but Arthur was also limited in his riding ability. This frustrated him, though he knew the return trip didn't hold nearly as much urgency. He just wanted to get home. See Gwen, assess any damage, have a proper bed to sleep in. He wanted to fully explain the situation to his knights. He owed them that much. All of them had felt the hole Merlin left. Now they had him back, but would they understand why? Would they accept the truth?

Arthur had a lot of work ahead of him. His father's legacy concerning magic ran deep in Camelot. He knew he would face fear and opposition. He would likely face bitter, even vengeful magic-users. Change would not be easy.

_But you have Merlin now_, he thought. _Through everything, Gaius said he was determined to fight for the good in magic, and, protect Camelot even under the constant threat of death. All the times he was nearly caught, left with support from no one, not truly. If Merlin could remain good in the face of all that, surely he could show others how to become the same._ Arthur glanced back at the slumped figure on the horse behind him. The collar of the cloak ruffled Merlin's black hair, gently brushing his pale cheek and ear. It couldn't be the most comfortable position to ride in, but if he was aware of any of it, it didn't show.

"How are you feeling, Sire?" Gaius spoke up for the first time since setting out from the lake. Arthur rolled his left shoulder experimentally. The entire arm was sore, but at least no longer spiking with pain.

"Well enough to be getting on. I can flex my hand and fingers now, though it's all a bit stiff."

"I suspected you might have cracked something landing on your elbow like that. Perhaps we should rest a moment. The bandages probably need adjusting for the swelling." Gaius dismounted, wobbling a little on the way down.

Arthur tightened his hold on the reins. "I'm doing fine, Gaius. I think I can see where the Questing Beast tried to ambush us; we're over halfway there. Can't we just keep going?"

"If the swelling makes the bandages too tight, it can cause permanent damage. You might not get full use of the hand back," Gaius argued. "We can spare a few minutes to stretch our legs. I for one, am not so accustomed to long patrol rides."

Arthur couldn't refute his friend and mentor's words. Not regaining full use of his hand could be disastrous for a warrior. Even as king, he was not going to sit by while others fought in his name. And his fingers _were _getting rather tingly, like when he slept funny on his arm and couldn't feel anything for a while. So he let Gaius help him clumsily off the horse.

"Try not to move it. I'll just adjust the wrapping…ah, the gashes seem to be well on the mend, anyway. A good cleaning and ointment once we're back to the castle, and you shouldn't even be able to see the scars. There. Don't let me catch you working that elbow, or you could make the crack worse."

Arthur was sure his guilt would bleed through onto his face, but at that moment, a faint sound took both their attentions.

Merlin shifted weakly in his saddle, his breathing strained. His expression was twisted with discomfort.

"Gaius, get him down!" ordered Arthur. He fumbled with his good hand at the closest strap holding Merlin on the horse. They eventually got him laid out against a tree, and Gaius went rooting through the medicine satchel while Arthur awkwardly massaged his friend's chest. The wheezing subsided. "Merlin, can you hear me?"

Merlin seemed to try to respond, if only he had the strength to lift anything. He couldn't even get his eyes open. But a few incoherent syllables made it past his lips.

"Give him this for starters," Gaius instructed, handing Arthur a waterskin. Then he went back to hurriedly mixing something into a vial.

"Come on Merlin, I need you to drink some…" Much of it dribbled down the servant's chin, but with his head propped by Arthur's shoulder, he got a few mouthfuls down. Arthur could feel the fever heat through the fabric of his tunic.

Gaius held his concoction up to the sunlight for inspection. His expression was appeased enough. "I worried this might happen. He's not yet strong enough to fight off any kind of illness, a danger already worsened by the cold and rain last night. With no food and little water, delirium has taken hold. We have to get his temperature down."

Arthur grabbed some clean linen from the satchel, wetted it down with water, and pressed the cloth to Merlin's face. The young man's mumbling quieted. He sagged towards Arthur, which jarred Arthur's bad arm, but he didn't care. All that mattered at the moment was taking care of Merlin.

"We can't stay here long, Gaius. He has to get to Camelot."

"Aye, he does."

An awful thought surfaced in Arthur's mind. "Gaius? What happens if he can't fight this? After everything we just went through, could he still…?"

"I don't know, Sire," admitted the physician. Gnarled hands tipped the fresh medicine into Merlin's slack mouth. He didn't flinch.

_Dammit, Merlin, if you die again, I'll have Gaius bring you back just so I can kill you myself!_

Gaius checked his nephew's pulse. "Well, that should combat the fever and keep him asleep for the rest of the journey. If you're ready, we should get moving."

Arthur buzzed with nervous energy as they started off once more. Everything was supposed to be okay from here on out. Merlin was alive. Morgana was no longer a threat. But this…he didn't think he could take losing Merlin all over again. Why couldn't fate be nice once in a while?

As they drew closer to Camelot, the path widened enough for all three horses to ride abreast. At least this way Arthur could keep Merlin in his line of sight. The haggard servant's hair was plastered to his pale forehead with sweat, his expression troubled. While Arthur had never truly appreciated Merlin's strength and determination until it was too late, he had always hated to see his friend so frail, so vulnerable. It was worse now, knowing what the secret warlock was actually capable of. He shouldn't be this bad off.

_Just a little longer, Merlin. Hold on…_

Arthur felt his chest tighten even further when they approached the lower town. A number of the thatched buildings were smoldering ruins. The few peasants who had ventured out to try to control the damage sat soot-streaked, in the shade, passing a water bucket around. They jumped to attention at the sight of the king, however, bowing despite their weariness.

"There's no need for that," Arthur assured them. He stiffly adjusted his bad arm in its sling. "Send someone up to the castle with an account of what needs done. I will dispatch men to help as soon as possible." The peasants nodded gratefully.

They proceeded up to the citadel gates, where knights were arranging and covering bodies. Gwaine, a long scrape running down his right cheek, was the first to spot them. His eyes seemed to pop out of his head when he saw the occupied third horse.

"Merlin—! What—how—you—?"

"Keep your voice down!" Arthur leaned forward and hissed. "I promise I'll explain once Gaius and I get him settled. He's still in a bad way. What's the status here—Gwaine, focus!"

"They—they didn't begin to breach the walls until around nightfall," explained the gruff knight. His gaze kept wandering across Merlin's limp form. "No matter what we did, while it might slow them down, they couldn't be stopped. But we held them at the battlements until…this unnatural windstorm came up. Could knock a man over, I tell you. Then they all sort of dissolved, like smoke. There was this awful voice on the wind, too. I suppose you had something to do with that." His grim expression was unreadable.

"How many lost?"

"Around two dozen, to my knowledge. All soldiers or volunteer defenders."

"Have Leon prepare a full report; we'll convene the Round Table in half an hour's time. Merlin needs to get to Gaius' chambers first. And Gwaine—say nothing of this to anyone. Not yet."

Gwaine appeared to wrestle with the desire to accompany his friend versus the duties to which he was still assigned. After a moment, he returned to the task in the courtyard. Fortunately for Arthur and Gaius, there were plenty of hands in the siege aftermath to take the horses. There was even a stretcher to commandeer for Merlin. He hadn't stirred since their stop on the road. Arthur made himself feel useful by insisting on carrying Gaius' bag. The court physician tried, and failed, to hide how much this trip had taxed him.

"He can go back to his room," Gaius instructed as they entered the cluttered infirmary. Thankfully, the servants to which he spoke were newly employed, and didn't know to question Merlin's presence.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Arthur.

"I need you to tend to your kingdom, Sire. You brought Merlin home. That's all I could ever ask of you here. He won't go anywhere without your notification." Gaius followed the stretcher into the little back room carrying a cloth and water.

Arthur was about to protest when the door behind him burst open again.

"Where are they? I need to see them!" Gwen was near hysterical, her hair and gown in disarray (she hadn't changed since their departure). Immediately she homed in on Arthur standing awkwardly in the middle of the chamber. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the state of him, rushed forward, and threw her arms tightly around his shoulders. "You—you're—"

"I'm alright, Gwen," he said into her ear, knowing she picked up on the pain lacing his voice. His good arm held her close, just as desperately. "Nothing that won't heal in time. The kingdom is safe—_Merlin_ is safe."

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. "You found him?! Where is he? Can we see him?"

"I'm sure Gaius would indulge you. He already told me to see to Camelot first." Arthur guided her to the rickety door through which the servants were just now returning. Hard to believe that only days ago, he could barely handle the idea of going in just to gather his servant's belongings. That wouldn't be necessary now. He smiled at the thought.

Gaius sat on a stool next to the homely cot. Merlin, still pale, sweaty, and unmoving, was firmly tucked in with a compress over his forehead. But the steady rise and fall of his chest was unmistakable.

"My Lady," the physician greeted politely. He threw a Look to Arthur.

"I know, I know, I'm leaving," Arthur said before he could be reprimanded again.

"May I…could I stay and help awhile, Gaius? You look in sore need of a bed yourself," proffered Gwen.

"That would be much appreciated, thank you," sighed Gaius.

Arthur squeezed Gwen's shoulder. "Let me know later how both of them are coming along. I should be getting to the Round Table. Gaius." With very great reluctance, he turned around and left the chamber. There was still much to do even though their task had been achieved. The sound of Gaius relating instructions to Gwen followed him out.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So all I'm going to say about this chapter is that it's really long, especially compared to the next one, but there really wasn't a way to split it that I liked. The momentum just had to play itself out. Lots of closure and friendship fluffiness!**

* * *

"Sire? Queen Guinevere is asking for you."

"Just a moment—then I want those funds allocated to the lower town relief," Arthur instructed to the castle treasurer. "We were lucky with the damage, so we're well within the means to fund the repairs. That is my decision." He handed some papers back to the cowed older man. "Where is Gwen that she's asking for me?"

"Gaius' chambers."

Arthur nearly tripped as he came around his writing table. Gaius meant Merlin. "Did she say why?"

"Only that you need to come as soon as you can," shrugged the knight. He was a newer recruit whom Arthur hadn't gotten to know yet. And he obviously hadn't been around long enough to understand the gravity of his own message.

Arthur tore out of his chambers as if the Medhir were after him. Since their return, his duties as king precluded checking on his recovering manservant, to his great irritation. Gwen visited when she could, but she also tended to her people to the point of exhaustion. Many refugees needed shelter until further arrangements and repairs were made. Only now, four days after the immortal army, were things beginning to return to normal. So if nothing else, Arthur claimed this short break for himself.

He burst into the physician's chambers, causing Gaius to drop the stack of books he held. "Sire!"

"Gwen asked for me as soon as I was available. What's happened?"

Gaius gestured toward the back room. "You should see for yourself…"

Arthur crossed the chamber in barely half a dozen steps. Despite his anxiety over what awaited him, he had to know. Not knowing was driving him mad. God, Merlin was going to give him a heart attack before this was over…

And he thought he _was_ going to have one when he opened the door. Gwen sat by the plain cot, holding a bowl and spoon. Upon Arthur's entrance, she put the spoon down so as to fix the cold compress sitting above Merlin's eyes. His _open_ eyes. He lay on enough pillows to be fed whatever Gwen had in the bowl, but he was _awake_.

"You could at least said so, Gwen!" exclaimed Arthur, putting his back to the door frame for support. His neck chafed from the sling, having run the entire way. "I thought the worst for a moment…"

"The king…worried about me?" Merlin joked, though his voice was raspy. The idiot of course immediately tried to sit up. Both Arthur and Gwen pounced on him. Not that the restraint stopped his mouth. "I must be dead, getting this much attention!"

"Shut up, dollop head," grunted Arthur. He wasn't willing to admit how reminiscent Merlin's statement was of recent events. "Scare us like that again and you will be."

They all settled back. Arthur grabbed the small desk chair from the corner and pulled it up to the opposite side of the bed. Despite the bravado, Merlin was still easily worn out. He sank gratefully into the pillows at his back.

"The fever started going down this morning, and he stirred not long after," Gwen explained, adjusting the compress again. She couldn't keep the smile off her face.

Merlin _did _look worlds better. The color in his face was healthier and more evened out. His eyes were clear and focused. Breathing didn't seem to be a struggle. He was even grinning that ridiculous grin of his. Arthur felt the last of the heaviness fall from his own shoulders.

"It's good to have you back, Merlin."

"Good to be back…"

Gaius bustled in at that very moment. All three younger occupants of the room wrinkled their noses at the vial he carried. The contents were a nauseating purple-green. "It's important that we get some decent nutrients back into you—so don't fuss. We need to keep you from getting sick again in order for you to really start gaining strength." His aging face still carried the worry all of them had felt.

By Merlin's expression, he was rethinking his earlier statement. But he obediently took the vial. Upon drinking the stuff, however, no one expected his reaction.

"That's actually not bad."

Gaius' eyebrows shot upward. Gwen stared at the empty vial. Arthur kept glancing between Merlin and the physician.

"Really," the servant insisted, "it's more like a liquid fruit platter than medicine."

"Well, I did crush some fruits and vegetables to mix with the tincture, and there's plenty more where that came from," shrugged Gaius. "I figured it would be the best way to get you to eat if I couldn't wake you. Of course, that's a moot point now…"

"You say it's supposed to help keep him from getting sick?" Arthur asked.

"That was the idea—"

"I think you're on to something. A drink that keeps you in good health. The knights could probably use it on patrols and the like, and it would be easier to carry than fruit. Write it out to give to the kitchens!"

This put quite the pleased expression on Gaius' face. Merlin gestured for some water, which Gwen carefully gave him. Gaius cleared away the vial and finished dishes. Now that the excitement was wearing off, Arthur felt a number of questions nagging at his mind. He had been able to explain things well enough to the knights. The ones that personally knew Merlin, especially, had taken fairly to the truth of the situation. Some even said that it made sense. The servant was odd at the best of times, and had a knack for ending up in curious situations. To be sure, all the knights had their varying degrees of apprehension about magic, having followed Arthur through many a tussle with Morgana. But that didn't stop them from understanding their king's reasoning in the desperate situation. They trusted his judgment, for which he was grateful.

He still had a lot of gaps in the story, though, and only Merlin could fill them.

"Could I have the room, please?" Arthur asked Gwen. Her expression quickly filled with disappointment and worry. "Nothing serious, I just want a chance to talk with Merlin. Man to man, you know?"

Merlin appeared to catch on. "It's okay, Gwen. I do owe him my life, after all. Go take some time for yourself."

She left, grudgingly, and not without giving Arthur a poignant 'be gentle' look. Once the door shut, Arthur found himself quite fidgety. Okay, maybe this wasn't so easy. Merlin watched him with a knowing and slightly apprehensive face.

"Merlin—" "Arthur—" they started at once. Merlin chuckled his tension out.

"You haven't been an easy person to figure out these past weeks," Arthur tried again. His warlock-servant's expression turned to amusement.

"So you finally succeeded then?"

Now Arthur could work up a laugh. "Not even close! I'd like to think I've made some progress, though. Once I got past the, uh, big…um…"

"My magic?" Merlin offered.

"Yeah."

"Look, I don't expect you to change everything just for m—" Suddenly Arthur cut off Merlin's statement with a fierce—dare he admit it—hug. He didn't want his friend to speak. To excuse his own existence away. He didn't want Merlin keep believing the greatest part of himself was a problem.

"You were _gone_, Merlin!" God, he couldn't believe how choked up he sounded. Sheesh, it was just a one-armed hug. "I watched, I _felt_ you die. And I knew what I had seen had been magic, but I couldn't feel anything except the _emptiness_ you left behind. The whole kingdom was changed. It took three weeks of that before I understood how much of our present lives were owed to you."

Merlin hovered somewhere between brushing the whole thing off and being impressed with this outpouring, as Arthur released him. The compress _plopped_ to the floor, forgotten. "I really wouldn't take it that far…"

"All those times you got away with magic, right under our noses? Sneaking around saving me, my father, Guinevere, the entire kingdom—plenty of people who would have had you killed without a second thought, and you risked it every time! Gaius told me everything when I tried to gather your things. The stories, it was all I could do to fathom you actually doing them." He had to take a moment to collect his emotions. No need to turn into a girl over this. "I just need to hear it from you. _Why_?"

Contemplation briefly darkened Merlin's features. "Wait, you went through my things?"

"Well, we couldn't exactly leave your mess here forever. I'm sure your mother would have wanted some of it. Oh, that staff you had under your bed, by the way…yeah…it's kind of, um…gone."

"_All_ of my things?"

"You _were_ dead, Merlin. That was before I started seeing ghosts and having to fight off Morgana's revenge. And you're avoiding my question."

"…What was the question again?"

_Yup, same old idiot._ Arthur rolled his eyes. "An all-powerful sorcerer—"

"Warlock."

"Whatever, still can't follow a minute of conversation," Arthur brushed off. "The point is, why, of all the things you could have done, did you stay here? As a servant, no less! Anywhere else would have been safer for…someone like you. You could have demanded power, money, anything. Why keep to a tiny back room serving someone you didn't even like at first?"

Merlin chuckled at the early memory. "Can't say it was my first choice for a plan at the time. Kilgarrah sort of had to push me into it. He's really the reason I could do what I did a lot of the time."

"Wait—who?"

"Oh, Gaius didn't mention him? Strange. Well, I suppose it wasn't crucial compared to…nevermind. You see, I had a bit of a history with a certain magical creature before he…uh, escaped the cavern beneath Camelot," the servant admitted the last part very quickly.

"You mean _the DRAGON?!_" sputtered Arthur. He didn't know what was more bizarre, that it had a name or that Merlin had befriended it. The mental image was comical.

"He's not so bad when he's not working out years of pent-up bitterness at being chained deep underground. Never gives you anything straight, though. Lectures about understanding others, but insists on letting every magical person I meet die. Goes on about destiny one minute and then throws a fuss when the only way to protect you is to, say, close the veil in your place. I thought protecting you _was_ my destiny! Gets you all turned around, that one."

"Okay, stop there—what about the part where I _killed_ that dragon after he escaped?" Arthur glared at Merlin's carefully schooled face. And then the dots connected. "But of course, that was yet another brilliant cover-up by you, wasn't it? How'd you do it?"

"I take it Gaius then also didn't mention that the last dragonlord turned out to be, well, closer than we thought," muttered Merlin. He picked at some loose threads in his cover. Arthur realized this was the first time he had seen the manservant honestly shy about a subject. Merlin really had to work up to his next statement. "He was…my father, Arthur. Balinor. I finally got to meet him, only to have him die in my arms. Turns out that's how the powers are passed down, too. We never lost them, after all."

"Those wyverns at the Fisherking's castle…they also stopped attacking when you arrived," mused Arthur.

"Yes, that was my doing."

Arthur paused to take this all in. They really were a pair, after everything they went through. All the trials they had faced together. He studied Merlin's current state—exhausted, even though he tried to hide it while Arthur pressed him with questions. The thought had never occurred to him how many times Merlin came out the worse for wear, and Arthur had never bothered to question this. In fact, he usually just made Merlin's life harder. The servant bore it all. Never complained, never wavered, put everything before his own wants and opinions. Well maybe not always his opinions, given how many times Arthur didn't listen, buggered things up, and yet miraculously saved the day. The more he thought, the more he found himself in awe of the strength of the man in front of him. Merlin had to be the most deceptive looking individual on the earth.

"You're a good man, Arthur."

"What?"

Merlin met his gaze steadily. "That's why. Took me a good while to see it, but I found the good in you. The leader you wanted to be. Kilgarrah helped with that as well. Then it didn't matter what our destinies were, who we came up against, or even if I could ever be myself. I believed you could be great, whatever that meant. And that was enough."

Arthur's mouth fell open. His efforts to close it failed, to what must have been comical effect. It elicited a smile from Merlin, anyway. He didn't know what kind of answer he expected, but it certainly wasn't that.

"The beauty of dying is that you get a chance to see the worth of your choices," Merlin continued in Arthur's silence. "It was all worth it, Arthur. I would have gladly moved on if it was required of me. That's how life should work."

"Until you got yourself stuck between worlds, and Morgana tried to use you as a puppet to take over everything," Arthur blurted before he really processed the thought.

Merlin laughed. "I did, didn't I? Can't say being a warlock was ever easy."

"Only you, Merlin. Only you would have the preposterous fortune to end up like that after being murdered!" They laughed together for a few moments, knowing how true the statement was. Then it brought something else to Arthur's mind. "How did you manage reaching out like that, anyway? And taking that dragon-ghost form?"

"Well, as you and Gaius figured out, I was suspended between the living and spirit worlds, so in some ways, I could exist in either one. Never fully, though, and since I was dead, it took much more energy to appear here. Any spirit with strong enough intentions can communicate through dreams."

"But it still caused you pain?"

"That was because Morgana was already trying to seize control. I ended up having to fight her _and_ try to help you. She was the only one powerful enough to challenge me, even as I was. Perhaps Cornelius Sigan could have, but his spirit is locked away from both worlds. Anyway, I could have learned to be like Freya—a kind of guidance and communication between the worlds for future students of the Old Religion. Over time, my closeness with magic would have allowed me to develop control over the very conduit I had become."

_Sure, that sounds like fun…except you'd still be dead!_ Arthur thought sourly. "We were able to get you out, though. It still brought everything back into balance, and I kind of prefer this outcome! Please, don't talk like things would have been better where you were."

"Sorry. I guess that means it wasn't really my time yet. We still have more to do as king and servant," posited Merlin.

Arthur wanted to throw a retort about behaving according to one's station, when he realized saying so at this point sounded ridiculous. They had already upset pretty much any conventions pertaining to stations. Kings saving servants, servants saving kingdoms, servants going behind the king's back, both using illegal magic…what did any of it matter? Arthur had his truest friend and counsel back. His world hadn't crashed into ruin just because said friend was a sorcer—_warlock_. He mentally promised to get that right someday. Everything might just get better, in fact.

"Speaking of which, when do you want me back to work?"

Arthur nearly jumped clear of his seat. "Beg pardon?"

"Or is it too complicated to try to get my job back?" pressed Merlin. He was less successful in suppressing the giant yawn that followed. But he watched Arthur expectantly.

"Let me get this straight—you've come back from the dead turning out to be an all-powerful sorcerer—"

"_Warlock_."

"Ugh yes, yes, I know! This has been a bit much to cram into less than a week, don't you think? The point is, you could ask for anything, and you want to _go back to being a servant_? MY servant, of all things?"

Merlin blinked owlishly from his cot. Then the question appeared to sink into his tired brain, and he broke into that grin Arthur once thought he would never see again. "But you know I wouldn't ask for anything else. My place is by your side, helping bring about Albion, making sure you're all clean and polished, and occasionally saving your royally pratish rear end." He pulled his arms up to block the spare pillow aimed at his face. They were both laughing, to the point where Gaius stuck his head around the door looking incredibly confused. That's when Merlin sobered back up. "Really, I can think of no place I would rather be than serving you. Although a lighter workload from time to time would be nice."

"Well if it's serving you want, be careful what you wish for," Arthur shrugged wryly. He sighed when Merlin yawned again. "You should probably get some rest before Gaius lectures us both. Worry about getting back to work later."

Merlin nodded; already his eyelids grew heavy. Arthur helped him straighten the blankets, and then headed for the door under Gaius' scrutinizing gaze. "Oh—I did have one more question."

"Fire ah-ah-away…" Merlin replied sleepily.

"Did anyone else ever know?"

Arthur bit his lip as he watched Merlin dredge up the answer from carefully guarded memories. There was relief on the servant's face, but also pain. "Almost no one, besides my mother and Gaius. Lancelot figured it out on his own, confronted me about it, too. And the Druids I've met over the years always knew. With the whole prophecy thing as Emrys and so on. Freya was the first person I felt safe actually telling, before she died. Mostly, I've just managed alone. A lot of us do."

"I see…well, then…" _How to follow that?_ "Maybe we can work to change that." Arthur jumped as Gaius cleared his throat behind him. "That's for tomorrow. I'll quit badgering you." He turned once more to leave.

"Arthur?"

He spun on his heel. "Hmm?"

"Thank you, really. Some might call us even now, but I don't know if I could ever repay you for what you did."

"You're very welcome, Merlin. Anything for a friend. I mean it."

* * *

**There you go, lovelies! Just one chapter to go, and I'll leave you with one request-please review! If you loved a chapter, tell me what made it work! If you weren't so thrilled, point it out to me! I want to put out the best stories I can, and you all are in the perfect position to help. Much love!**

**~bryne**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Once again, my apologies for tardiness. I went out of town with limited internet access, and came home with bronchitis. Sadly, regaining the ability to breathe properly took precedence over editing. But here it is!**

**That being said, this will probably be short for some of your tastes. I tried, I really did. There wasn't as much left to be said as I thought. Much of the pithy, heart-to-heart stuff was in the big reunion last chapter. However, there is still plenty of bromance fluff to be had, and I think it rounds the story out nicely. Thank you all so much for reading, and let me know what you think!**

* * *

Arthur started peeling off his royal regalia before even nearing his chambers. No matter how long he reigned as king, he was never going to get used to the boring ceremonies for visiting dignitaries. Especially for the ones that spent the whole time sucking up to him. So by the time he reached the door, enough layers were slung over his arm to feel practically back to normal.

Until he actually opened the door, that is.

"Merlin!"

Resounding crashes and fluttering parchment echoed around the gangly servant, who whipped around on his heel. While pacing as he mended a shirt, Merlin had also magically suspended Arthur's armor for polishing, set the broom to clean out the dusty corners, _and _had the numerous papers on Arthur's desk straightening themselves. At least, they were before Arthur had startled him. Now it was all one big mess.

"Merlin, I'd appreciate it if you would show a _little_ more discretion in doing that," he sighed, bending down to retrieve the shoulder guard at his feet.

"Well, you know about it now, and you said you were reexamining the laws—"

"And what if I had been another servant, or one of the lords stopping by? Attitudes toward magic may be changing, but that doesn't mean we're all ready to see it on a daily basis. You have to give people time to get used to the idea."

Merlin accepted the reprimand humbly. Arthur suspected the unusual response (or lack thereof) was out of gratefulness to be allowed to live, free, while in possession of magic. He fought the temptation to milk this for all its worth. No. They weren't children anymore. And he was still overwhelmingly happy just to have Merlin back again. Nothing was the same without the cheeky commoner. So he decided to take the opposite route…he jumped in to help clean up.

"No, you don't have to—Arthur—"

"Just let me. I know you've always wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine, show me how much of a mess I leave you with. Anyway, can't have anything going missing, can I?" He grinned to show he was being lighthearted. Thankfully, Merlin returned the gesture, understanding.

"It's nice to get a bit of cooperation for a change," quipped the servant.

"I'll keep that in mind when I can. I suppose once or twice you _have_ had more on your plate than just keeping up after me. How many times were you the single-handed defense of Camelot, again?"

Merlin chuckled. "I wouldn't call it single-handed, necessarily. I just found the right tactics to use. Or I gave you the means to do what you do best."

"Still, you can't deny that sometimes it really _was_ because of you. Take credit where it's due. As I recall, for example, you were the only one who could defeat the spirit of Cornelius Sigan. Try to worm your way out of that one."

"Well, technically I could only do that because Kilgarrah gave me the spell—"

"Oh, shut up and take a compliment for once!" The two of them dumped Arthur's half-polished armor on the table. "Even when I'm trying to be nice to you, you insist on being difficult. I know you deserve more appreciation than I've given you, in just about every way. Well, okay, I might be stretching a bit on your ordinary duties, but with everything you did behind my back, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here. Just go along with it."

"Yes, Sire."

"And don't go starting with the 'perfect servant' façade now. Just because I complain about your insolence doesn't mean I haven't come to appreciate it," Arthur admitted, leaning against the smooth wood in front of him. He let out a huge sigh. "Gaius was right. You treat me like a human being. You listen when I'm working out problems, you're not afraid to tell me when I'm being an ass, and you stick around when everyone else has given up. I don't deserve a friend like you, yet here you are."

"Here I am. Although I wouldn't be here if you hadn't been willing to see me as more than just a servant," Merlin pointed out.

"We really are a pair, aren't we?"

"Two sides of the same coin."

"What?"

"Just something that seems to come up a lot regarding the two of us. Means pretty much the same thing."

"Oh."

Merlin poked at his mending, testing the stitches. "So, how did the ceremony go?"

"Ugh! Chambern is as bad as George! He'd probably actually lick my boots if I asked him to. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Which reminds me, what did I do with my regalia?"

"Dropped it on the floor."

"It'll need sprucing up before dinner tonight—er—which would be minimized if I hung everything on the chair…" Arthur walked himself through his train of thought. He shook out each piece before draping it on the nearest chair. Merlin watched with something akin to awe on his face. "Don't look so shocked, will you? I _am_ still the king. If you want, I can just leave it on the floor."

Merlin went to retrieve the broom, his amused smile lingering. "No, no, you're doing perfectly fine. Don't mind me. I'm just the servant here. By the way, Leon needed to see you immediately about the new training regimen."

"Merlin, you are anything but 'just a servant,'" scoffed Arthur as he headed for the door. He could have sworn he heard a muttered spell before the polishing cloth whizzed past his head. The complete disregard for who was in charge only widened his grin. Life was back to normal, just with more interesting effects. He wouldn't trade it for anything, either.


End file.
